Cadence
by Sparkiebunny
Summary: A case, a little girl, an explosive impact. Tony-centric, hurt!Tony.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey, everyone! I'm so glad to be back into an NCIS multi-chapter fic! Feels as if it's been forever. This story is a little different than what I've written in the past, and deals with lots of emotions and action and just a lot in general! I have a feeling it'll be a pretty long one, too…Basketball season amongst other things has me pretty tied up for time, so updates might not be as frequent. But I promise to do my best! Hope you all enjoy!**

_**Warning: There are some events and emotions in this story which may be sensitive for some readers. Nothing particularly graphic, but the world is a sad place, and that's something I definitely explored in the writing of this story. I mean not to offend, simply to address the real emotions and tragedies that reside everyday in the world around us.**_

* * *

"Gear up; we've got a Marine ready to blow up a bank."

Gibbs strolled through the bullpen and stepped into the elevator, waiting for his agents to follow. As expected, Tony, Ziva, and McGee were up in seconds, squeezing through the doors and standing around their boss.

"What's the story?" McGee questioned as they descended.

"Lieutenant Jane Marsh, six years in the Corps. Cheating husband cleared out their account and took off. She's more than a little upset," Gibbs replied, taking a swig of his coffee. "Armed, and has enough high-powered explosives in the bank to level the place."

"Accessibility?" McGee asked from behind Gibbs.

"None. Too many bombs planted in unreachable areas, no way to get to them without being seen."

"Detonator?" Ziva questioned.

"From what the LEOs could see, it's a pressure-release trigger. As soon as she releases it from her hand, that's it. Looks like the Lieutenant is preparing her final speech for when she blows the bank off the map. Got about 30 civilians in the building, and from what we can tell, she's not one to respect the 'sanctity of life'."

Tony's brow furrowed as they stepped off the elevator and headed toward their vehicles. "That doesn't make sense, Boss. Why would she put so many lives at risk when her husband won't be there to reap the consequences?"

Gibbs took another drink from his cup before tossing it into a nearby garbage can. "It's not about the husband."

Realization dawned on Tony, leaving a cold knot to form in his stomach. "The mistress…"

"Works at the bank."

"Any demands?" McGee asked hopefully.

Gibbs paused a moment before replying brusquely. "Nope."

_Shit._

Bombs were scary. People with bombs were even scarier. But the most terrifying thing a cop has to face is people with bombs and nothing to lose.

"So we are going to try to talk her down?" Ziva inquired.

Gibbs answered, fishing the keys out of his pocket. "We're going to keep that bomb from going off."

_He makes it sound so simple._

With that, they piled in, rushing off to their destination, none sure of what they would find when they arrived.

**. . .**

As they pulled hastily into a clear space near the bank, the team knew they were in for trouble. People were crowding voraciously around the building, and the LEOs had a line of men trying to hold them back. Yells could be heard from the crowd, shouts of curiosity mixed with pleas of desperation.

"Please, my wife's in there!" a man shouted from the mass of people. Tony straightened his shoulders and walked on, determination in his gait. Several more people cried out similar claims.

"My son works there; he had the day shift. Damnit, let me through!"

"My mother was getting her taxes done today. Jesus, what are going to do to get them out?"

"My baby boys…God, please get them out, please. They're with their brother. My youngest is only three..."

It was painful to hear the broken uncertainty of the families. Everyone had something to lose, some_one_ to lose. Amidst the chaos and noise, Tony knew they had to find a way to stop the bomb from going off, at all costs. No loss would be accepted, from the smallest child to the oldest teller. Even Marsh herself would be spared if possible. Marsh may not deserve to live, but she didn't deserve to die. In the vast accumulation of people…past, present, future…there had to be someone who wanted Marsh to live. So she deserved to. Not for herself, but for her family, for her friends.

Everyone was loved by someone.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said. The sharp tone snapped Tony out of his thoughts, and he glanced over to see Ziva and McGee talking to some LEOs. "Let's go," Gibbs said, and he and Tony made their way toward a uniformed man, apparently the officer in charge.

"What've we got?" Gibbs asked, flashing his badge as he approached the man.

"Officer John Gordon," he introduced himself. "I've stationed my men outside a back exit of the bank, on the southeast corner. A SWAT team is on their way, and I've got a negotiator here as well. You've got jurisdiction, Agent Gibbs, it's your call."

"Where does this back exit lead to?"

"It's an unused fire exit, crammed between some storage closets and maintenance rooms. Marsh must not have known about it; not surprising, seeing as some the employees weren't even aware of it. We figure we can sneak the SWAT team in one by one and take her by surprise."

Tony spoke up, "And let her twitch and blow the place away? I don't think so. Sure it looked sweet in _Shooter_, but this is the real world, and there are real people in there whose lives we aren't willing to risk."

Tony almost laughed when the officer's chest puffed out indignantly.

"Who the hell is this?" he asked Gibbs.

Tony extended his hand. "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Now if we're done with the niceties, I think we'd like to hear your plan B."

The man visibly bristled at Tony's confident attitude. Tony's grin extended even further. _Ruffled your feathers, have I, Gordy?_

"I was getting to that, Agent DiNozzo," the man replied.

Before the officer could continue, Ziva and McGee walked over and introduced themselves. Not surprisingly, the officer seemed to take much better to the two than he did to Tony.

_Wouldn't have it any other way._

"As I was saying," Gordon continued. "We're also thinking we can send the negotiator in through the back-"

"Armed?" Gibbs asked.

"Unfortunately, our currently employed negotiator hasn't been certified to carry a weapon." The officer looked down, a bit of shame seeping into his stature.

Gibbs swore under his breath and everyone spent a moment in thoughtful silence.

Which was, of course, broken by Tony.

"Boss," Tony began, voice low and determined. "Put me in there."

Gibbs stared at Tony with a look of incredulity. "No."

"Boss, just hear me ou-"

"I said _no_, DiNozzo."

Tony felt his frustration building. Because damnit, he was competent, he was more-than-qualified, and he was _good. _Why couldn't someone just _acknowledge_ that for once in his life?

"Boss, listen to me, _please_."

"What, DiNozzo?" Gibbs's eyes narrowed into the typical fixed stare.

But the angry glare didn't faze the senior agent. After years of exposure to Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Tony knew when to stand up and when to back down. He was a good cop, a good investigator, and a damn good undercover agent. He had the chance to use his skill set to save a building of civilians and for once, he was taking it. For once, he saw an opportunity and was _taking_ it.

If he couldn't do that, what was he good for anymore? _Nothing_, Tony thought_. According to the world, absolutely nothing_.

"You just said there was an opening through the back. We send a SWAT team in, all those people are dead. You send a shooter in, they're dead. You send a negotiator in, they're bored, then dead."

Gibbs gave a small growl as he replied. "We don't know that. If we send in the negotiator-"

"She doesn't care about _negotiation_, Gibbs!" Tony spat frustratedly. "She cares about _revenge_. And some two-bit fed in khakis isn't gonna change her mind." As the words left his mouth, he knew he needed to rein in his anger. They were losing time, and he'd allowed his frustration to affect his communication. _Another opportunity blown, DiNozzo. Well done._

Everyone was quiet for a moment, suspended in the tension, waiting for Gibbs's reaction.

_If there was ever a time to be fired, _Tony thought_, _a flicker of fear in his heart_. It'd be now._

He'd made his stand, right or wrong, and he was ready to accept the consequences. Hazel eyes determined and hard as stone, Tony stared unwaveringly at Gibbs, trying (and failing) to gauge his unreadable expression. Icy blue narrowed and locked on Tony's face.

Everyone in the area swore that time itself stopped to watch the standoff.

Stepping into Tony's personal space, Gibbs opened his mouth. Tony held his breath.

"What _exactly_ did you have in mind, DiNozzo?"

And _exhale_.

"Wire me. Give me a camera to plant. That'll give us eyes and ears in the building."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. _Go_ _on_.

"If we can convince her that I'm just another hostage, she won't be threatened. Then, we can distract her and sneak them out a few at a time. Have a team at the door to get people out quick, save as many as we can until we find a way to keep the bomb from going off."

"And when Marsh starts to notice people are missing?" The skepticism wasn't missed by Tony.

"There are at least 30 people in there, Boss, and right now, Marsh is restless. Odds are, she won't notice, and if she does…" The uncertain pause was far from missed by Gibbs. "If she does, send in the SWAT team, hope for the best."

Gibbs shook his head, eyebrows jumping up toward his hairline. "That's your Plan B? Hope for the best?"

Sighing, Tony released the tension in his shoulders, a half-smile accenting his tired features. "Got anything better?"

A few beats of silence filled the cool air, permeating through the atmosphere, seeping into the stressful expanse.

Turning away from Tony, Gibbs faced the officer beside him. Tony tasted the familiar tang of defeat. But then, Gibbs spoke in a low voice, eyes flicking briefly to Tony and back.

"Wire him."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you all so much for the wonderful support! I wrote as fast as I could to get this chap out to you, and I hope you enjoy!**

**Shout-out to my reviewers: _BlueEyes444__, __tiffaroolou__, __xenascully__, __diana teo__, __vanishingp2000__, __Deluded Visions__, __Santoryuu-Zoro__, __scousemuz1k__, __NickTonyK__, cousinamiyours, __kookykey__, __Art Is The Weapon__, __WalkInEternity__, __sarahsrr__, __Mc7ism__, __Writing For The Wall__, __angeleyes46__, __Tacpebs__, __CindyT63__, _and _shirik_**

* * *

"You sure you wanna go through with this?" Gibbs asked quietly, helping with the final adjustments of Tony's wire.

Tony nodded. "It's our best bet." He paused a moment before chuckling humorlessly. "How sad is that? When did _I_ become our best bet?"

The headslap was expected, but stung nonetheless.

As the preparations ceased, Gibbs, Tony, and Officer Gordon made their way around the building. Within less than a minute, they were at the exit.

_Whoa_, Tony thought, for the first time acknowledging the knot in his stomach. _That was quick._

Officer Gordon stepped forward, handing Tony a small camera about the size of his palm. "Just before you turn the corner into the lobby, you'll have a limited amount of time before you're seen. On your way there, make sure you leave some kind of trail for the hostages to follow. We need those people out as quickly as possible. When you _are_ seen, tell Marsh you were in the bathroom and had no idea what was happening. Hope to Christ she believes you. And you act scared as hell, boy, because if she gets even a whiff of you being a cop, this whole place is going up in flames.

"You're going in without a weapon, so you're already at a disadvantage. Don't make it worse for yourself. And remember, that wire of yours is one way. So we'll be able to see and hear you, but there's no way for you to hear us. Got it?"

Tony nodded in affirmation and Gordon continued, "Don't screw up, kid."

Tony winked, tossing a casual smile in Gordon's direction. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Gordy." He could _hear_ the man's teeth grinding.

As Gordon stepped away to radio his officers, Gibbs came forward. His blue eyes examined Tony intensely, and thousands of unspoken words passed through the gaze. Tony's face betrayed none of the fear fighting its way out of his eyes.

"Hey," Gibbs said, bringing Tony's focus entirely to him.

_Don't be scared. I've got your six._

"Don't do anything stupid, DiNozzo."

_Be careful. Come back in one piece._

"Never do, Boss."

_Gotchya_.

Tony stepped through the door, drawing in a deep breath and briefly closing his eyes. Gibbs shot him an amused grin to cover his anxiety. Is eyes were alight as he looked at Tony. "You scared, DiNozzo?"

_It's not too late to find another way._

"Me, Boss? DiNozzos don't get scared."

_Terrified_.

Gibbs grabbed the handle of the door, ready to close it.

"Good luck, DiNozzo."

_Good luck, Tony._

"Won't need it."

_Thanks, Boss._

The door closed, leaving Tony alone in the dimly lit corridor. Taking another deep breath, Tony collected himself.

He was in.

**. . .**

Tony looked around, gaining his bearings, orienting himself within the building. To his right, there was a janitor's closet with the door slightly ajar. He carefully prodded it open and found it empty. An open paint bucket caught his eye, and Tony smiled to himself.

_Found my trail._

He picked it up, along with a small paintbrush, and shut the door behind him.

Stealthily, Tony crept down the hall, paintbrush handy. He kept up a steady rhythm of dipping and dragging, making sure every line was clear and obvious. _Trust some traumatized hostage to get lost in the middle of an escape._ He could hear faint noise as he drew nearer to the lobby, what sounded like crying and talking.

He could see the corner from his position. Setting down the brush and bucket, he grabbed the camera out of his pocket and considered his options. There was no obviously good place to plant the camera, no subtle ledges or convenient alcoves. However, just on the corner, there was a tall plant. If he could somehow hide the camera in its branches, it'd have the perfect view…

But in order to do that, Tony would have to sneak up, plant the camera, and then sneak back and pretend to be a clueless hostage on the way back from the bathroom.

_Ah well, I knew it wasn't gonna be easy._

He gripped the camera tightly, knuckles white, breath shallow. He flicked it on, twitching his finger. With painstaking caution, Tony put one foot gently in front of the other, slowly making his way toward the plant.

**. . .**

"We're online," McGee said. The team, along with a few officers, was gathered around a laptop screen, viewing the inside of the building from Tony's perspective.

"What're we looking at, McGee?" Gibbs demanded, eyeing the screen.

"Not sure yet, Boss. Think Tony's getting ready to plant the camera."

**. . .**

_Breathe in. Breathe out._

Tony continued his slow progress, inching closer and closer to the plant on the corner. He could clearly hear the noise from the lobby; a few whimpers emanated, along with sharp voice, which he assumed belonged to Marsh.

"…you have no idea. No _fucking_ idea how it felt. To devote yourself to someone so wholly and completely that you trust them more than you trust yourself. And then to come home and find them fucking around with some slut bank teller. But it doesn't matter. Nothing does anymore. So just _shut_ _up_."

Tony swallowed down the fear bubbling up his throat. Marsh sounded farther gone than he'd anticipated. He crawled closer, and could see Marsh and a few hostages from his vantage point. Marsh's left hand was held firmly around the small detonator, and she paced in small, unsure steps. Bound to a chair a few feet away was a young blonde woman, mouth duct-taped.

_Hello, Mrs. Robinson_, Tony thought to himself. He had no doubt that the woman was the teller with whom Marsh's husband had had the affair.

There was another woman sitting beside her, trembling and clutching her daughter.

"Please, you don't have to do this to us. My daughter…" the crying woman pleaded. _Jesus, just shut up. For you own sake, shut up_, Tony thought.

Oddly enough, the voice that followed wasn't angry or hateful. If anything, Marsh's voice took on a tone of remorse, an air of wistful sadness.

"It's sad, when these things happen…Nobody means for them to, but they don't stop. Sad things have always happened, and they won't stop. At least I don't think so. I don't care enough to stick around and find out."

Tony closed a few more inches between himself and the plant.

"What's your daughter's name?" Marsh asked, tilting her head at the woman before her.

The woman remained silent.

Marsh pulled out a gun with her free hand, cocking it and pointing it casually at the woman's face.

"What. Is. Her _name_."

"Cadence," the woman whispered, voice barely audible.

"Why don't you introduce us?" Marsh asked. Her gun hand twitched and the mother wailed loudly.

"Stay away from her! You are not laying a _finger_ on my baby girl. Just leave us alone, you _psycho_!"

Marsh merely examined the woman through narrowed eyes. Then, she spoke lowly, venom dripping from her voice.

"Let go of her. Now. Cadence and I would like to speak." When the woman made no move to let go, Marsh shifted the gun to point at Cadence's head.

Immediately, the woman responded, gently whispering to the girl and pulling her away.

The girl lifted wide, watery eyes and extracted herself from her mother's bosom.

"Well, Cadence," Marsh said sweetly, kneeling down until she was face to face with the young girl. "What a pretty name you have."

The girl didn't respond, and her eyes never left Marsh's face.

"I like kids, Cadence. None of these people believe me. I think they think I'm a monster, Cadence. But you don't think that, do you? You don't think I'm a monster, Cadence." A twisted smile curled Marsh's lips, and Tony felt repulsed at how _wrong_ it looked.

Tony held his breath and placed the camera carefully between branches, praying it would go unnoticed and that the team outside could work with the angle.

**. . .**

"We've got eyes, Boss."

Gibbs nodded, watching the scene as it played out in the bank.

_Good work, DiNozzo._

**. . .**

"Cadence?" Marsh said. "You don't think that, do you, honey?" Cadence's mother whimpered and Marsh shot her a loathing glare.

Tony held his breath once again, terrified of what the crazed woman would do next.

He was shocked when Cadence, who looked to be about six or seven at most, opened her mouth and spoke shakily. "I-I think maybe you're h-having a bad day. I have bad days, too, s-sometimes."

Marsh raised her eyebrows, face stony. But slowly, the blankness broke into another snarled grin.

"A bad day," Marsh mumbled to herself. The nauseating grin expanded. "I like it. I like you, Cadence."

Then, she looked at Cadence's mother disgustedly. The woman's arm curled around her child instinctively.

"But I'm gonna have to borrow your mommy." She holstered her weapon and grabbed the woman's forearm.

"No, please!" Cadence's mother cried. Her pleas were ignored as Marsh dragged her up. Panicked tears sprung to Cadence's eyes.

Tony froze.

They were walking right toward him.

It was mere seconds before Marsh was before him. Just enough time for Tony to scoot back to the corner, stand up, and school his features into shock and terror. Fury bore down on him as Marsh turned the corner.

"Who the hell are _you_?" she asked, jerking to a stop. The woman beside her gazed up at Tony, pleading for help, defense, safety. Tony only hoped he could provide it for her by the end of this nightmare.

His hands shot up along with his eyebrows. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on?" He gave himself a mental pat on the back at the quiver in his voice.

Marsh tossed Cadence's mother to the ground, growling, "Don't move" before turning back to Tony, leveling the gun at his head.

"I said," she hissed. "Who the _hell _are you?"

"T-Tony Chamberlain," Tony replied quickly. "Please, I-I didn't do anything wrong. I was just in the bathroom around the corner. God, please, don't shoot me." Tony's breath quickened and he forced his eyes to flick back and forth fearfully.

_God, I feel like such a freaking pansy. _But he could hear his boss in his head, as clearly as though he was actually there.

_Suck it up, DiNozzo._

"Well, Tony Chamberlain, you're late to the party," Marsh sneered. "I have a bit of a _problem_ to take care of…" She gestured toward the woman beside her, and Tony's heart clenched. "So why don't you wait in the lobby, and I'll with you as soon as possible."

Marsh began to walk past Tony before turning around and holding up the hand that held the detonator. "Oh, and in case you get any ideas…" The rest of the threat hung eerily in the air as Marsh's grin widened.

She gripped Cadence's mother's arm tightly and flew around past Tony. Concern for the girl's mother was overridden by panic as Marsh reached the crossroad of the hallway. He waited to see if she turned down the hallway he had come from, hoping against all hope that she wouldn't. If she turned that way, she'd see the trail, discover the plan, and all would be lost.

She paused. Tony held his breath.

She turned the opposite way. Tony released his breath and made his way to the lobby.

He walked slowly into the room full of people, scanning the faces discreetly. There looked to be about thirty adults, upwards of forty. Scattered among the adults were three or four children. One boy looked to be about two, maybe three. Another boy maybe eight or nine.

And then there was the girl whose mother had been dragged away. Cadence.

She was wearing a white cotton dress, which hung almost down to her ankles, long and flowing. The material was soft, matching her long, light brown hair. It hung in small waves, tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. She had deep brown eyes, which were currently swimming with unshed tears.

Tony sat down wearily a few feet away from the girl, ignoring the looks from the other hostages. His gaze remained glued to his lap, unable to look the child in the face. All he could think of was the look of terror on her mother's face and the look of morbid glee on Marsh's. Cadence's mother was going to die, if she wasn't gone already. And he couldn't do a damn thing about it, for fear of jeopardizing the mission.

He couldn't do a damn thing about it, and it was eating him up inside.

**. . .**

"Now that Tony is in, we must focus our energy on stopping the bombs from going off," Ziva stated. "Any ideas, McGee?"

The team was silent for a few moments before McGee spoke. "Well, if Marsh tapped into the building's power grid, I can try to override its security and shut down manually..." He began typing quickly on the laptop before him, keeping an eye on the screen beside it, where his partner was sitting amongst the hostages.

Gibbs gave a slight grin as his eyes followed the motion on the screen, trailing the movement as it settled beside his senior field agent.

"Brace yourself, DiNozzo," he muttered, still watching the image on the monitor.

**. . .**

"S-Sir…"

Tony's musings were interrupted by a small body scooted close to his. He turned and blinked stupidly, looking into the delicate face of the young girl.

The pure childlike innocence leaking out of the chestnut brown eyes froze Tony to the spot, and for a split second, all he could do was stare.

"Tony," he recovered quickly. He shot her a reassuring grin, and hoped to God she wouldn't see through it. "'Sir' makes me feel old. You can call me Tony."

That dragged a tiny smile out of the girl. "I'm Cadence."

Tony gently took the girl's hand, bringing it to his lips and smiling grandiosely. "Pleased to meet you, madam."

Cadence giggled lightly, smiling with such vibrancy and vitality that for a moment, Tony forgot where they were. For a moment he forgot the danger surrounding them, and the imminent fate creeping darkly around the corner.

But then he saw the face of Cadence's mother in his mind. The terror, the desperation, the _brokenness_. And all of the sudden, he remembered.

Cadence must have noticed his shift in emotion, and the smile slowly slid off her face. Tony wished she would laugh again. But it was too late; the chestnut brown eyes had taken on a tone of seriousness.

"Tony, where did the bad lady take my Mommy? Did you see her?"

Tony swallowed, and his heart momentarily broke for the young girl who would now have to live without a mother. But he quickly grinned again, giving Cadence's hand a light squeeze.

"I'm sure she just took her out back to talk to her. You know how a teacher has to talk to a student sometimes?" Cadence nodded. "It's like that. She might not bring your mommy back for a while, but don't worry."

"So she's in time-out? The bad lady put her in time-out?" The innocence would've made him laugh if it didn't break his heart.

"Sort of, yeah."

Cadence didn't look totally convinced, and bit her lip anxiously. Tony could tell that she was very near tears, but trying to hold them back.

Acting on impulse, Tony wrapped his arm around the small girl, drawing her in for a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be ok, sweetie. Don't you worry about it, ok?"

To his surprise, the young girl nestled comfortably into his side.

"Ok," she said. Her voice wavered slightly, but remained trusting. She repeated his words to herself. "It'll be ok."

Pinching his eyes closed, Tony carefully cupped Cadence's ear and brought her head closer to him.

His acutely trained ears picked up the muffled sound of a gunshot.

_It'll be ok._

* * *

**Ever wanted to meet your favorite authors/readers/fans? Live in the U.S., more specifically the East Coast? With copious amounts of planning, it's now possible! For more info on the _Author's Note Convention_, please PM or email me (both options available on Sparkie and I's profile)…It's going to be a blast, and interest is integral, so please consider attending! Thank you! **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Short one, but I wanted to get something posted. Busy week ahead, and I knew I probably wouldn't get the chance to post, so I hope you enjoy this tidbit!**

**Shout-out to my reviewers: _BlueEyes444__, __tiffaroolou__, __xenascully__, __diana teo__, __vanishingp2000__, __scousemuz1k__, __NickTonyK__, __kookykey__, __Art Is The Weapon__, __sarahsrr__, __Mc7ism__, __Tacpebs__, __shirik__, __HPSmallCharm29__, sterno, CeCe Away, __velveteen habit__, lot56, Natasha, CONNERS, Madances, Jill, __mamapranayama__, elevated, _and _je2060_**

* * *

Tony gently extracted himself from Cadence's grip. He had to talk to the other hostages before Marsh returned.

"Cadence, sweetheart. I'm gonna go talk to some of the other people, ok? I'll be right over there, don't worry."

After a moment of biting her lip, the young girl straightened her back and nodded. Tony began to stand up.

"Wait!" Cadence cried. Her arm shot out to grab Tony's. Then, her voice got very quiet. "What if she comes back?"

Tony didn't need to ask who 'she' was. He knelt down again, acknowledging the strange sense of protection he felt toward the girl he'd just met. Her eyes looked up at him, so trusting, like a wandering sheep in need of a shepherd. She didn't want him to leave. And Tony found that he didn't want to leave her either.

"How old are you, Cadence?" he asked.

"Six."

_Jesus_.

"Well, that is far too young to be worrying. You shouldn't do it so much, it takes away from that beautiful smile." Cadence grinned bashfully. "If she comes back," he said, meaning every word. "I'll take care of things. You don't have to worry about anything at all."

She looked scared and damnit, she had every right to be. But she raised her head bravely, as man would when heading off to war. Tony grinned proudly and lightly ruffled her hair before standing and making his way to one of the clusters of people.

He glanced behind him and saw Cadence fiddling with the bottom of her dress, picking at the frayed white fabric. When she caught his eye, he shot her another dazzling smile and she shot him one of her own. But Tony could see the concern in her young gaze.

He couldn't help but think that she was masking just as much as he was.

"Who are you, man?"

Tony broke eye contact with Cadence as he turned his head forward. Before him sat a young twenty-something man and the two boys he'd seen earlier. The man wrapped an arm around each of the boys, hugging them protectively. If Tony had to hazard a guess, he'd say they were brothers.

The oldest, the one who had spoken, looked up at Tony, and within his eyes was a mixture of defiance, suspicion, and outright fear. Tony couldn't blame him.

"I'm Tony," he said. Then, he gestured toward the boys. "These your brothers?"

After a moment of scrutiny, the young man spoke. "Jake. And yeah, these are my little brothers."

Glancing around, Tony sat, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He spoke to the young man in a low voice.

"Listen, kid. I'm a cop—Don't say a word." Tony shot a pointed glare at the Jake as his eyes widened and his mouth opened. "I've got a plan. But you have to be careful. Be subtle. And most importantly, be quick."

The young man nodded vigorously, eyes glued to Tony's face.

"You see that plant over there? Right on the corner?"

Another nod.

"You're going to calmly take your brothers over there, a few seconds after I get up. Then, you're going to sit there until I give you the signal. When I give you the signal, that's your cue to sneak yourself and your brothers around the corner, into the hallway. You're gonna walk down the hallway a bit before you come to a division. Turn _right_, ok? Then follow the paint trail all the way out. There'll be a team waiting for you." Tony took a breath, gazing at Jake intently. "You got all that, Jake?"

The young man looked scared out of his mind.

"Listen to me, Jake, you've got to stay calm. You've got to be brave. For your brothers. You gotta get them outta here, understand?"

A breath. A nod. _Relief_.

"W-What's the signal?" Jake whispered.

Tony pondered this for a moment. "You ever seen _Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure_, kid?"

"Reeves and Winters?" Jake asked, a small smile lighting up his eyes. "I was only _raised_ on it."

Tony let out a small laugh, relieving the tension if only a bit. "Good. When you hear me mention 'excellent' or something along those lines, that's your cue."

"But wait, how are you gonna distract that psycho bit-" Jake looked down at his brothers and cleared his throat. "That psycho…woman. She's not blind; she'll see us sneaking off."

Tony grinned the same grin he'd flashed Cadence. Reassurance. Calmness. Bullshit.

"You leave that to me," Tony replied.

Jake nodded, and Tony began to rise.

"Tony," Jake said, getting his attention. His voice dropped and he absentmindedly drew his brothers closer to him. "Thank you."

Tony shrugged it off with a small smile. "Just doing my job."

Then, he made his way back over toward Cadence.

Tony sat down heavily. He'd only been in the bank for twenty minutes or so, and already he'd lost a civilian. A mother. An innocent. He hoped to God his hostage escape plan would work, and that he wouldn't have another loss to add to his burdened conscience. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing his mind to be assaulted with images of a terrified woman clinging to her daughter. The same woman, dragged through a hallway, into a back room. Then, that woman having a gun pointed at her head, and—

His morbid train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the soft feeling of a hand laying atop his own. He opened his eyes, looking down. Sure enough, small fingers lay gently on top of his hand, not curling or rubbing consolingly. Just…there.

And somehow, it made all the difference.

He looked over into the face of the young girl. She just gave him a sad, sympathetic smile, as if to say _I don't know what you're going through, but I can see it's not easy. _It was the kind of thing only a six-year-old could ever do.

He felt a fraction of his guilt and worry melt away, and wasn't sure how that was even possible.

Cadence smiled. Tony smiled back.

And somehow…it made all the difference.

* * *

**Ever wanted to meet your favorite authors/readers/fans? Live in the U.S., more specifically the East Coast? With copious amounts of planning, it's now possible! For more info on the **_**Author's Note Fandom Convention**_**, please PM or email me (both options available on Sparkie and I's profile)…It's going to be a blast, and interest is integral, so please consider attending! Thank you! **


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Considering the holiday, I thought it was fitting for all my wonderful readers to receive a present from the bunny. Couldn't get a hold of the famous one, so I'm hoping you'll all settle for a present from **_**this**_** Bunny, me! Happy Easter, everyone! Enjoy! **

* * *

"Any luck, McGee?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"Sorry, Boss, the detonators aren't hooked up to the grid. We'll have to figure out another way."

"Oh, we will," Gibbs replied. The rest of his thought remained silent.

_But will we find it in time?_

**. . .**

Tony looked over at the blonde woman tied up in the chair a few feet away. Her forearms were immobilized against the arms of the chair, leaving her hands to grip the ends. The mistress was still whimpering through the duct tape, and Tony couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity. She'd been morally wrong, without a doubt. Cheating in itself was bad, but with a man whose wife was overseas, serving her country…That was low. That was beyond low.

_But we all make mistakes._

Some bigger than others. Some smaller. Some forgivable.

_Some not._

The whimpering woman deserved scorn. She deserved fury and anger and regret and a shitbarrel of guilt. But she didn't deserve this. More importantly, the others didn't deserve this. Jake. His brothers. The young lady in the corner. The man in the back.

_Cadence_ didn't deserve this.

Tony sighed, drawing his eyes and thoughts away from the blonde mistress. He had to come up with a plan. And fast.

_Not fast enough._

The moment of calm was interrupted by the swift entry of Marsh, gun and detonator both still in hand.

She headed straight for the whimpering mistress.

"Miss me?" she said loudly, in a sickly sweet voice.

To no one's surprise, the woman didn't respond but for another choked moan.

"Thought so. I've been pretty lenient up to this point, but when people abuse that, it's time to put my foot down. You have to understand that I didn't _want_ to do any of this. I was _forced_ to. Circumstances led to this, and I'm sorry that all these people have to suffer for your mistake. But you have to learn."

Everyone in the room shuddered. But no one dared speak.

Without warning, Marsh gripped the butt of the gun and brought it sharply down on the mistress's head. Not hard enough to knock her out, but hard enough to drawn a muffled scream from the gagged woman. Blood sprung instantly to her head, and Marsh grinned.

"I want you to suffer even more than I did. I want you to feel the guilt fill you until you can't feel anything else. Look at their faces. Look at the faces around you and know that you're the one responsible."

Marsh followed up with a hit to the shoulder, and another to the knee. And audible crack resounded.

Everyone winced. But still no one said a word.

Until Marsh slammed the gun onto the woman's tightly gripped hand, and the resulting snap caused the woman to scream with piercing agony.

"Hey," Tony said firmly, capturing Marsh's attention. It didn't escape his notice that when Marsh faced him, her back was completely to the hallway, making her blind to the escape route he'd set forth. "Leave her alone."

Marsh's gaze was sharp and determined. There was no humanity left in the darkened eyes. Just anger, vengeance. Hate.

Unconsciously, Cadence tried to pull herself closer to Tony. Tony gently pushed her away, kind but firm in the gesture.

Marsh didn't seem to see the motion, instead channeling all her focus on Tony's face. Her voice dripped with barely-controlled rage. "Excuse me?"

Tony remembered that he was supposed to be playing the part of terrified hostage, so he remained silent. Marsh advanced toward him, momentarily forgetting the woman in the chair.

"Did our latecomer say something?" she asked, grinning disbelievingly. "What's your name again?"

Tony said nothing, but looked straight at her.

"Answer me," Marsh demanded.

"Maybe if you asked more nicely."

Her nostrils flared as she stepped toward him, by now completely ignoring the sobbing mistress. Then, she stepped back and turned toward a small group of hostages, comprised of two women and a man. Gesturing toward Tony with the gun, she said, "I'm going to smash in the vending machine and get myself something to eat. I'll be back in three minutes, and if he's not tied up by then, there will be consequences. Understood?"

The group looked at each other fearfully.

"Do. You. Understand," Marsh repeated fiercely. The group nodded their consent. "Good." With that, she spun on her heel and walked over to a side entrance, disappearing around the winding hallway.

Jake met Tony's eyes, silently asking for the signal to leave, now that Marsh was momentarily gone. But she wouldn't be gone for long, and if the other hostages saw, Tony knew there would be pandemonium. He shook his head almost imperceptibly.

_Not yet._

**. . .**

"Damnit, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled. _Stop_ _being a self-sacrificing idiot before you get yourself killed._

McGee sensed the worry in his boss's voice, and felt it in himself as well. His view of Tony was partially blocked when Marsh was standing in front of the man, but now that she'd left through a side door, he could see the senior agent clearly. The look on his face was far too similar to the look he'd worn in Somalia all that time ago. It worried him. Truth be told, it terrified him. And watching Tony talking lowly to the hostages who were supposed to be tying him up…McGee knew Tony had a penchant for playing hero, and only hoped it'd help and not hurt the situation.

_Please, Tony,_ McGee thought. _Have_ _at least an ounce of self-preservation._

"What the hell does he think he's doing?"Gibbs said in anger, pacing the small area.

McGee began to shake his head, but as soon as he looked at the screen again, he stopped. The frustration melted completely into worry and, perhaps if he was being honest with himself, a pinch of admiration. This was Tony. This was who he _was_. Not _playing_ the hero, just trying his damndest to _be_ the hero. And McGee couldn't fault him for that.

Neither could Gibbs, and in a rare moment of boldness, McGee spoke his thoughts.

"With all due respect, you'd have done the same thing, Boss."

Gibbs only sighed and turned his attention back to the screen.

_Touché_.

**. . .**

"What are we supposed to tie him up with?" one of the women cried in panic, as Marsh exited through the side door.

"You can't be serious! We can't tie him up; he did nothing wrong!" the other woman replied.

The man stepped forward coolly. "Calm down, you guys." Then, he turned toward Tony. "Look…I'm sorry…but-"

"Phone cord, behind the teller's desks. Be quick, you don't have much time."

The man furrowed his brow questioningly, but one of the women was already ripping the cord out of the wall and dragging it back. She grabbed a chair on her way, and set it beside Tony. Gesturing weakly, she said in a quiet voice full of regret, "I'm sorry."

"Sign of weakness," Tony said shortly, settling himself into the chair. "Hurry up, and listen as you tie."

"Tony!" Cadence cried, hopping up and rushing toward the chair. "What are you doing?" She turned to the woman currently tightening the cord around his arm. "Stop it! Let him go!"

Tony used his free hand to touch Cadence's arm reassuringly. "Shh, it's ok, sweetheart. I've got a plan."

The six-year-old gaze was all but convinced.

"Come on," Tony cajoled. "I'm asking you to trust me, Cadence. Can you do that?"

She bit her lip and gazed up, eyes wider and more trusting than ever. It was almost scary to see so much faith…in _him_, of all people.

"I've got a plan," he repeated, hoping to quell any uncertainty that the girl had.

Cadence seemed to consider this for a moment. Then, she unexpectedly extended her hand, pinky out.

Tony stared at it, unsure of how to proceed. Cadence made that easy for him. She raised her eyebrows at the finger and asked seriously, "Pinky promise?"

Tony wanted to laugh, and wished he'd had time to. But Marsh would be back any minute, so they weren't awarded that luxury.

Sticking his own pinky out, Tony spoke with confidence. "Pinky promise."

He hooked their pinkies together, almost startled by the contrast. His was dark, slightly crooked from too many tackles and loose balls. Hers was clean, untouched, and fragile. Yet somehow, for all their differences, the fingers intertwined perfectly, flawless in their connection.

Tony began to pull away, but Cadence scowled.

"No! It doesn't count yet! You didn't nod!"

Tony was perplexed. He noticed the woman before him shifting her feet impatiently, but ignored her.

"What do you mean?"

Cadence rolled her eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You have to _nod_ when you pinky promise for it to count."

"Oh, do you?"

She nodded astutely. "Yes. It's just the proper way to do these things."

Tony grinned. Then, still gripping her pinky with his own, he nodded.

**. . .**

As expected, Marsh came back within a few minutes. It'd been just enough time for Tony to coax Cadence back to her spot and convince her to plug her ears and turn away when Marsh came back.

He glanced over, and was relieved to see Cadence's back turned to him, hands cupped around her ears.

It'd also been enough time to quietly inform the three hostages of his plan.

It was the same as the plan he'd told Jake, except they were to wait a few minutes longer at least, and instead of a verbal signal, they were to wait for his eye contact. As soon as they read Tony's eyes, it was their cue to go. But not before then; they had to wait. Tony prayed they would.

"I'm back, latecomer! You look nicely secured, a job well done." Marsh still held the gun, butt out, menacingly.

"Thanks," Tony replied, "How about a raise then?"

The hit from the gun was sharp and fast, right to his cheek. He felt it split open.

"That's no way to treat your best employee…"

Another hit, this time to the opposite cheek.

"Ok, I never attended those harassment seminars, but this has to be violating some kind of rule."

Marsh landed a few more blows, some to his face, some to his body. None felt all-too-pleasant. He could taste blood running down his throat and he wished he could throw it up, but refused to give Marsh the satisfaction.

The blows continued for a bit before Marsh paused to speak.

"Learned your lesson yet, latecomer?"

"I've learned that you'd make a _terrible_ boss."

Marsh's eyes blazed as the butt made brutal contact with Tony's already-bloody mouth.

"How'd that one feel?" she said, grinning at Tony's sharp intake of breath.

Blood dripped from the butt of the gun, falling in a slip-splat design on the smooth floor. Tony distantly wondered if it was his or the mistress's. He wondered if it mattered.

"That one," Tony replied. "…Felt excellent."

His vision dimmed as the weapon slammed once more into his skull. It reverberated through his senses and left blood flowing steadily down his face. But he felt no pain.

Because as Marsh glared down at him angrily, he looked past her for just long enough to see a pair of small feet disappear around the corner, signaling the escape of Jake and his brothers.

His relief was so overwhelming that he didn't notice when Marsh pointed the gun at him. He didn't notice the decisive gleam in her eye. He didn't even notice her pulling the trigger.

But as soon as the hot bullet ripped through his abdomen…he noticed.

* * *

**Ever wanted to meet your favorite authors/readers/fans? Live in the U.S., more specifically the East Coast? With copious amounts of planning, it's now possible! For more info on the **_**Author's Note Fandom Convention**_**, please PM or email me (both options available on Sparkie and I's profile)…It's going to be a blast, and interest is integral, so please consider attending! Thank you! **


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hey! I hope Easter was good for everyone! The bit toward the end of this chapter is actually something my dad used to say to me all the time. Ahh, nostalgia...**

**Here's a quick recap to clear up any confusion (for those who would rather not go back and reread the previous chaps):**

Tony told Jake and his brothers the plan (signal being the word 'excellent'). Marsh left, demanding that Tony be tied up, at which point Jake looked for the signal. However, Tony deemed it as too dangerous and signaled him to wait. Tony informed the 3 hostages tying him up of a slightly revised plan, so escape could be staggered. Marsh returned and whumped Tony, providing the distraction for Jake and his brothers to escape, and Tony gave them the signal. Then, the psycho bit—*ahem*—_woman_…shot Tony.

**I forgot to do this last chap, so this is for the last 2 chapters! Thanks, guys! The support is overwhelming and I'm so grateful for all of you! Shout-out to my reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, sarahsrr, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, velveteen habit, lot56, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, AZGirl, **__**WalkInEternity**__**, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, sparkesann, smush68, Mulderette, julie250, BnBfanatic, sentarla, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__**, dinozzofan14, Jackilee, Katrina, **__**Caro June**__**, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, **_**and**_** Belker**_

* * *

He wasn't tied up anymore, and he supposed he should be grateful for small mercies.

Sure, there was a freaking _hole_ to the right of his navel that was definitely _not_ supposed to be there. But all things considered, it could be worse. He carefully prodded the wound. Through and through, moderate bleeding…it hadn't hit anything vital, but infection could set in at any time.

_Gotta love GSWs…_

Marsh was now circling the far side of the lobby. As soon as she'd pulled the trigger, she had yanked the phone cord from Tony's wrists and shoved him bodily away, before turning her attention back to another heated monologue. She raved, pacing back and forth, fingers still tightly clutching the detonator. The crazed woman was seemingly oblivious to the hostages, caught up in a whirlwind of anger.

His side throbbed painfully, but he supposed the sting was worth the knowledge that Jake and his little brothers had escaped.

_Three down. Twenty or so to go…_

Tony's hand clutched the wound in his side, staunching the blood flow as best he could. As soon as Marsh paced herself toward the opposite corner, away from the corridor, Tony gave the group of three a pointed glare, dragging his eyes from theirs to the hallway and back. They briefly glanced at Marsh before crawling stealthily around the corner.

The last woman, the one who'd been the first to act, the one that had tied him up…She looked back and for a split second, her eyes connected with Tony's. They were wide and regretful, clouded with tears. She opened her mouth as if preparing to say something, but Tony shook his head.

_It's ok. Just go._

And she did.

_Six down…Plenty to go…_

"T-Tony?" a small, fearful voice crept up through the light haze in his head. He turned to face Cadence, and felt his heart pang at the utter terror in her wide, chocolate eyes. Cadence was tentative in her motions as she approached Tony. Her gaze flicked from his pale face to the red stain on his shirt. Her breath quickened, and Tony was afraid of the very real possibility that she was going into shock.

"Hey," he said, reaching out with his free hand. His voice was rough, but bravado covered it. He extended his hand gently, just enough to brush Cadence's.

She drew away instantly, a scowl on her face. "You promised," she stated. The raw betrayal in her quivering voice hurt worse than the bullet wound. "You pinky promised."

"I'm sorry," Tony replied. "But I didn't break my promise."

The brown eyes blazed accusingly, but Tony noticed her breathing even out a bit.

"I promised I had a plan, right?"

Cadence nodded hesitantly.

"Well, can I let you in on a secret?"

Cadence nodded again, and Tony beckoned her forward so he could whisper in her ear.

"It worked."

He paused, awaiting a sign of forgiveness. Sure enough, Cadence sat down beside him and nestled softly into his uninjured side. She looked down at the blood and his hand on the wound.

"Does it hurt?"

"Nah," he lied easily. "I've had worse paper cuts." He held back a grimace as a particularly painful throb pulsed through him.

"I hate paper cuts," Cadence said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," Tony replied, increasing the pressure on his abdomen. "Me too."

**. . .**

"He doesn't half-ass anything, does he?" Gibbs growled. He eyed the little DiNozzo on the screen, fixating on the small red stain over his abdomen.

"That he doesn't," McGee replied. They'd come to a standstill a few minutes earlier, and passed things off to the tech team, so all the rest of them could do was monitor the situation through the screen in front of them. There was a small pause before his nerves got the best of him. "Maybe we should pull him out, Boss. I don't like this."

Ziva, who'd been observing silently, stepped forward. "It is too late. We cannot pull him out now; Marsh would release the detonator. Our best chance at resolving the situation is to keep Tony where he is."

McGee was incredulous. "Even if it means risking his life?"

"It is our job, McGee. We risk our lives every day." The words were painfully detached, unemotional.

"This is different, Ziva, he could _bleed_ to death in there!"

"He made his choice when he walked into that bank!"

McGee looked at the steely-eyed woman, and for a brief moment, she flickered into an image almost the same—a few years younger, with frizzier hair and more smile lines than frown, tied up back-to-back with the very man whose life she was now willing to risk. He wondered where that woman went. He wondered if they'd ever get her back.

At a loss, he turned to his boss, who'd remained silent throughout the exchange. "Boss…" He tapered off, uncertain of what exactly to say.

"He has to stay," Gibbs said. At least there was a sense of inner conflict in his tone. "But the faster we can get things done, the better off he'll be."

_The better off we'll all be._

The team turned their attention back to the screen.

**. . .**

"Are we gonna be in here forever?" Cadence asked, vulnerability oozing through her tone.

_Not if I can help it._ "No. We're going to get out, Cadence."

The girl remained silent, as if not wanting to contradict him, but not entirely believing.

"Hey," Tony said, nudging her with his elbow. "I pinky promise." He extended his pinky, and Cadence eyed it for a moment before her face broke into a grin. The way it lit up her features took Tony back to a time when he was just a boy. His mother had always said he had the most beautiful smile in the world.

Looking at Cadence, Tony had to disagree.

The two linked pinkies once more.

Tony drew his other hand away from his wound to check the bleeding. It had slowed down, and was now leaking sluggishly down his wet shirt. The blood coating his fingers was half dry.

He noticed the little girl staring at the wound. He saw how her eyes traced the blood trails on his shirt, and traveled to his slick fingers and hand. She scooted herself close and Tony didn't mention how much it stung his side.

He could feel small tremors running through Cadence's back as she stared up at him. He could see his reflection in the watery depths.

Cadence's hushed voice shook, along with her tiny shoulders. "I'm scared, Tony," she breathed.

"Hey," he said. He put his fingers on her chin and gently tilted it up so she was looking into his eyes. "Let me tell you something...When I was a kid, my dad used to take me fishing. And at first, I was terrified that I was going to fall in. I thought I was gonna slip, go overboard, and get eaten up by all the little creatures in the water. But I got over it. I got past it because of something my dad told me. He used to say this to me, and now I'm going to say it to you."

Cadence held Tony's gaze, awaiting his advice.

"He used to say, 'Anthony, there's only one time in the world that you should be scared, ever. The only time you should ever be scared is if I am.' Then, he'd tell me to look at him real good. And I would. Then he'd say, 'Do I look scared?'…And he never did."

_Except one time._ But that was when Senior was faced with the prospect of raising his only son all by himself, and facing the rest of life without the _love_ of his life. And Tony figured that was more than enough reason to be scared so he'd never said a word.

"So, Cadence, I want you to look at me. Look at me real good."

She did, and her piercing gaze had Tony fighting against the fear and dread in his heart.

"Do I look scared?"

The mask held firm.

"No," she said softly.

"Good," Tony replied, smiling and running his hand gently through Cadence's hair. "Then you shouldn't be either."

"Pinky promise?"

She reached out her pinky. She extended her faith, her belief, her _trust,_ in the now-familiar gesture. And she gave it to him without question.

He hooked her pinky with his own, proverbially reaching out to take all of it. The exchange came with a heavy weight on his heart, the weight of responsibility. But it also came with a sense of pride, a sense of determination.

More than anything, it gave him _purpose_. And he'd be damned if he didn't fulfill it.

He laid his head gently atop hers, burying his nose in her hair. It smelled like flowers. It smelled like goddamn _flowers_.

In that moment, Cadence became his purpose, and he was struck by how long it had been since he'd had that.

But it was there now. A purpose, a reason, motivation. And he was going to protect it with everything he had.

* * *

**Ever wanted to meet your favorite authors/readers/fans? Willing to take a nice trip to the East Coast? Interact with other authors and readers at the **_**Author's Note Fandom Convention**_**! For more info, please PM or email me (both options available on Sparkie and I's profile—but don't tell her, haha, it's a surprise!)…It's going to be a blast, and we'd love to see all of you there!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry to take so long…This chapter is dedicated to Xenascully, for infinitely many reasons. May we all lift her in thought and prayer. And also to M, for the spurt of inspiration. Two wonderful authors and people whom I'm more than grateful to have in my life.**

**Shout-out to my reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, CeCe Away, lot56, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, smush68, Mulderette, combatcrazy, sarahsrr, **__**DS2010**__**, **__**mamamia1964**__**, **__**wunsleh**__**, **__**GreenEyes09**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, Reloader, **__**Emiliana Keladry**__**, anxious, **_**and **_**dbd823**__**…**_**Also, thank you to the **_**anonymous **_**reviewer ****with no name, who greatly contributed to the confidence boost you all have given me! Thanks so much, everyone!**

* * *

It didn't remind him of Kelly. Not at all. Not in the wide-eyed trust or the tender voice. Not in Tony's softened eyes or uncharacteristically gentle gestures. None of it reminded him of Kelly or fatherhood or family or love. None of it reminded him of loss. None of it.

Gibbs stared at the screen before him, watching his senior agent sit there, bullet hole in his gut, bleeding out…and _cuddling_ with a little girl.

It didn't bring back memories of couch cuddles or proud hugs or daddy-I'm-sick affection. Not one bit. Not in the way Cadence leaned into Tony like he was her shelter in a violent storm. Not in the way Tony leaned right back as if she was the same.

It didn't make his heart painfully contract for both the past and the present. Nor did it rip him back to smiles and hugs and tears and pain.

_None_ of it reminded him of Kelly or fatherhood or family or love or _anything_.

It didn't remind him of any of it. Not at all. Not one bit.

He wouldn't let it.

**. . .**

Tony sat, struggling to formulate a new plan to get more hostages out. Namely Cadence. Obviously, he wanted to (and _would_, damnit) get everyone out safely, but the young girl had smiled and pinky promised her way into his heart, and he refused to consider any scenarios where she didn't walk out of the bank, safe and sound, fidgeting with the frayed end of her dress. Cadence would get out. She had to.

Painfully, he dragged himself forward a few feet. When Cadence moved to follow him, he held a hand out, gesturing for her to stay put. And she did, but not without a scowl. He kept moving with deliberate slowness, trying his best to ignore the biting pain through his side. The thin line of blood he left behind was equally disregarded.

Tony made his way quietly over to the wall where a group of five or so hostages were sitting. Marsh was still too caught up in her maniacal ranting to notice.

"…and make _me_ look like the bad guy here, but I'm _not_. People do bad things, but it doesn't make them bad people. It's _him_. It's _her_. Not me. I'm just evening things out. People die every day, and I'm just making both of them see that and know that in this case it's _their_ fault. Not mine. Not. Mine."

He wondered when she would lose it completely and just blow the place up, as was her original intention. But he wasn't too keen on asking when there were still so many hostages inside. Let her prolong it as much as she wanted, as long as it was long enough for him to get everyone out or Gibbs and the team to shut down the bombs.

"Sir, are you ok?" a voice hissed. Tony stopped crawling, not ignorant of the exhaustion that struck his body when he relaxed his muscles. Nor was he ignorant of the sharp tearing sensation slicing through his side.

He settled against the wall next to the older woman who'd spoken, whom he'd estimate to be around sixty or so. Her wrinkled eyes were a soft shade of green, full of sympathy and what looked to be a hint of worry.

The latter was difficult for Tony to comprehend, because why would she be concerned about him when there were so many others who needed that attention? Cadence, the mistress, any of the other twenty people stuck in the bank…But she was eyeing _his_ wound, looking at _his_ face, talking to _him_…as if he mattered. The woman didn't even know that he was their escape route, yet still she locked eyes with him as if he was the only person there, in that moment. Not begging for escape or demanding a plan…just looking at him with those wrinkled, worried eyes.

He felt as if he was getting lost in them, and tried desperately not to think of how reminiscent they were of his mother's.

But the way the gaze stripped him down and built him up in the same moment, he couldn't help but feel a small hole reopen in his heart.

_She'd be about her age by now…_

"Sir? Honey, you with me?" The voice was anxious. The gaze was unrelenting.

"Yeah." He finally found his voice.

"Are you ok? Has the bleeding slowed at all?"

It took him a moment to realize she was referring to his wound. He looked down at the red liquid pumping slowly but steadily out of the hole.

"Yeah," he said. The statement was true. Not complete, but true.

The woman moved to look at the wound, outstretching her hand toward it. "I used to be a nurse. Let me take a look at i-"

Tony caught her hand, bringing it down and staring intently into the woman's eyes.

"It's not important," he said quietly. He glanced over at Marsh, ensuring that she was still oblivious. She was. "What's your name?"

"Lesley," the kind woman replied.

"Listen to me, Lesley…I'm a federal agent, and I've got a plan to get you out of here. But you have to listen, ok?"

The woman looked as if she was about to protest, but held back and nodded instead.

"There are still too many of us in here to get everyone out at once, so we have to do it in small groups. I'm going to get Fatal Attraction over there to take me out of the room, to the bathroom or something. As soon as that happens, you need to quietly grab a person or two, and sneak them out around the corner. Turn right, and keep going. After a few seconds, you'll see paint on the floor. Follow the trail, and a team will be waiting for you at the end, a back exit."

The woman spoke carefully, eyes troubled as they examined Tony's face. "But what about you, honey? You've got a gunshot wound for Pete's sake; you're not liable to last much longer. You need medical attention."

"Bigger things to worry about," Tony replied smoothly. His gaze shifted around to Cadence. Though Lesley said nothing, Tony knew she understood. Tony hoped she understood.

"Lesley…that little girl over there," he said, gesturing to Cadence, who was once again fiddling with the end of her frayed dress. "Her name is Cadence. She's six years old." He felt the need to say this, as if it served as explanation enough. Then again, didn't it? "You need to take her with you, get her out of here."

Lesley looked past Tony, and he saw her eyes visibly soften. The murky green narrowed, and before long, a small smile graced the aged features.

"She's beautiful."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, looking back at the small child. "She is."

Lesley turned back toward Tony. "I don't believe I caught your name, honey."

"It's Tony. Tony DiNozzo." He rubbed absentmindedly around the sensitive area on his side.

"Well, Tony DiNozzo…you're a very brave man." She reached over and gently pulled his hand away from his side, taking it in both her own. She locked eyes with Tony, and an air of power lit up the murky green. "Be careful, honey."

"Will do," he replied with a slightly mischievous grin. Then, his face grew serious, and equal intensity emanated from his own eyes. "Take care of her. She's a great kid."

Lesley grinned tiredly. "Will do."

**. . .**

"Hmm," McGee said, cocking his head at the screen. He'd heard Tony's entire conversation, and was a bit surprised at his partner's open display of paternal affection. "He seems to have really taken to that little girl."

"Yeah," Gibbs replied. He shoved down the tug in his gut. He was worried about Tony. That was it. That was all.

McGee glanced at his boss, but their eyes didn't meet. Ziva remained silent.

They all prepared for Tony to carry out his new plan, hoping to God that he wouldn't get himself into any more trouble than he was already in.

**. . .**

"Cadence…"

Tony wiped the sweat gathering at his forehead and threw the girl a light grin.

Her deep brown eyes narrowed. "You have another plan, don't you?" It was a statement as much as it was a question.

"I'm not getting too predictable, am I?" A tossed wink, a knowing smile.

A worried glare in return.

"What if you get hurt again?" Cadence asked. Subtle dread crept into her voice, though Tony was sure the girl didn't even realize it.

He ruffled her hair playfully. "Sweetheart, what did I tell you about worrying?"

Silence fell between them, and all that could be heard was the constant stream of ranting coming from across the room.

"You have a very important part in this plan, Cadence. I need you to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that?"

A nod.

"I need you to do exactly as I tell you."

Another nod.

"Pinky promise?"

She did.

Tony pointed to Lesley, who smiled and waved kindly. "You see that woman over there? I'm going to be gone for a bit, and while I'm gone, you have to listen to her, ok? Wherever she goes, whatever she tells you to do…you have to do it."

Cadence bit her lip nervously. "But what about y-"

"Don't worry about me. When I leave, go with her no matter what. Got it?"

A long moment passed, until Cadence finally muttered a soft, "Yes." Her brows tilted, giving her eyes a sad, apprehensive look. "You're coming back for me, though, right?"

He pulled her into a gentle side hug. "Of course, kiddo. Couldn't stand to stay away for too long."

He hated the burn of the lie on his tongue, but if it made Cadence safe, it was a small price to pay.

Cadence stood up only so she could lean over to hug him from the front. She whispered in his ear.

"Please just be careful, Tony."

"I will."

_You too._

**. . .**

He slid across the floor slowly, distancing himself from Cadence.

"Excuse me," he said. His voice was as loud as he could muster, which—he noticed with disappointment—wasn't very. "I hate to interrupt this stimulating monologue, but I've got to do some business, if you know what I mean."

Marsh whipped around and narrowed her eyes at him. He threw her a boyish smile, trying his damndest to make it reach his eyes.

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

The woman seemed to be contemplating this.

"I don't mind having an escort," he added.

Marsh stepped closer, glaring down disgustedly at him. "Shut up, latecomer. You have two minutes; let's go." She wrenched him up by the arm, and Tony swallowed the hiss of pain. The two exited through the side door Marsh had left through earlier, one impatiently dragging, the other struggling to keep up.

**. . .**

Gibbs and the team traced every movement on the screen. As soon as Tony and Marsh left the lobby, the older woman Tony had spoken to—Lesley, was it?—motioned for Cadence to come nearer. The little girl did so, albeit reluctantly, and stood beside the woman. They were settled just to the side of the camera, only visible due to the wide-angle lens. A strategic location in order to avoid attention from the other hostages. It looked as if Lesley had grabbed another young man to escape with as well.

Though the camera didn't give them any audio, the conversation rang loud and clear through the body language and facial expression of each of them.

**. . .**

Lesley smiled warmly at the small girl before her. "Hi, Cadence. My name is Lesley. We're going somewhere else, somewhere safe, but we need to be very quiet…just follow me, sweetheart."

But Cadence wasn't as submissive as most six-year-olds.

"Please don't call me 'sweetheart'. Only Tony calls me that. Tony and my Mommy."

"Well, I apologize, Cadence. I won't do it again," Lesley said carefully. "But we need to move quickly, dear, so come on. It's time for us to go."

"Where?" the girl asked, keeping her voice low to match the older woman's.

"It's not important, Cadence. We're going somewhere safe, that's all. No need for you to worry about it."

Frustration flared in the small brown eyes. "I'm tired of everybody telling me that! Just tell me where we're going. And what's gonna happen to Tony?"

Lesley hesitated, glancing nervously at the doorway. Their window of time was closing.

"Tony is very brave and very smart. He'll be just fine."

"You mean we're _leaving_ him here. That is what you mean, isn't it?"

Goodness, this girl was perceptive.

"That's not what I mean, Cadence…I just…we need to go. Now." She was beginning to panic.

Cadence was defiant in her stance. "Tony needs help. We can go when Tony gets back."

"No, we can't, Cadence. We have to go now. Please, just follow me, sweetie."

"Don't call me that," Cadence shot back with a scowl. "I'm not going unless Tony comes, too."

Time was up. It was now or never.

Lesley met the girl's eyes pleadingly, feeling the seconds tick away as her mind and heart were torn in opposite directions.

**. . .**

The team watched the movements of the figures closely, fully aware of the situation. It'd been nearly two minutes, and still Lesley, the young man, and Cadence hadn't left. Lesley's nervousness was practically seeping through the screen. Cadence's conviction pulsed out with equal strength.

They followed the small figure with weary eyes, seeing her shake her head resolutely. They followed her hesitant movements away from the older woman. They saw the woman stand, obviously torn, before slipping around the corner with the young man.

"No," McGee breathed, watching Cadence scuffle slowly away. "Boss, what's she doing?"

"Most important Marine rule," Gibbs replied, icy blue still glued to the monitor.

Ziva's voice broke through the silence unexpectedly. It was hushed as her dark eyes absorbed the small girl on the screen. "Never leave a man behind."

No one said anything. In that moment, none of them were really listening anyway.

**. . .**

When Tony stumbled back in, Marsh shoved him to the side and began ranting again, like a skipping track, a broken record. To his relief, he'd been able to quickly locate a bathroom. He did what he'd gone to do and though the act was degrading in front of the disturbed woman, he had to sell it for authenticity's sake.

He remained on his feet for just long enough to scan the room. He was about ready to collapse against the wall when his breath whooshed out of his lungs in shock. He stared straight ahead, and had never been less happy to see a pair of chocolaty brown eyes staring back.

"Cadence? What…what're you…"

After a short pause, the little girl simply shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal, as if she hadn't ruined his plan, his dream. She shrugged as if his only damn _hope_ of feeling ok about _any_ of this hadn't just fallen apart. Suddenly, he wasn't as overcome with exhaustion.

"Cadence," Tony said sharply, frustration tainting his tone. He wasn't yelling, but he might as well have been. "I told you to _listen_ to her. You were supposed to _go_. What were you thinking? Huh? _What were you thinking_?" He was breathing deeply, almost towering over the girl. His eyes were hard and intense, and his clenched fists trembled faintly.

Cadence seemed to hold her breath as she stood still as a statue. Her eyes got wider than Tony had ever seen them, though in the heat of the moment he didn't notice. A slight tremble overtook her hands, which hung limp at her side; as if she was afraid any movement would set off a land mine. As if any breath would set the world on fire.

"I-I…I didn-" she stuttered, her voice small enough to be blown away by a modest breeze.

"You didn't _what_, Cadence? _Listen_? That's all you had to do, damnit…That's the only thing I asked you to do." His voice grew progressively loud enough for the other hostages to glance over. He stood, mouth pressed in a stern, tight line.

He hadn't asked much from her, had he? All he asked her to do was listen. He was the adult, the _authority_; why did she have to be so damn obstinate?

_I'm trying to help her, _save_ her, and she chooses now to be a stubbor-_

"I didn't want to leave you."

The voice was smaller than a whisper, quieter than a breath. It was tiny and sad and so damn _sorry_ that Tony felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. He felt as if he deserved it.

And though his eyes were on Cadence, all he could see was a broken father, towering over his son, demanding things of the boy that the boy didn't do, didn't want. Things that the boy didn't understand, and thought he never would. All he'd wanted was to make his daddy proud, so he wouldn't be so angry anymore, so he wouldn't be so sad. But it had only made daddy angrier and angrier, and now he wasn't sure if things could ever be the way they were, no matter how much he wanted them to be. Didn't daddy know that he was scared, too? He missed her, too…But the boy just looked up into the sharp, hard eyes, looking for that teeny shine that used to be there whenever daddy would tell him not to be scared. He found nothing.

And that scared him more than anything.

The memory dissolved into the present, and Tony saw the miscomprehension, the regret, the fear in Cadence's eyes.

And damnit if he didn't feel like he'd been painted in acetate, left to be the skipping track on the broken family record, replaying the past line over and over. The regret hit him first. Then, the guilt took a swing, followed by the swift blow of self-deprecation.

He instantly deflated, feeling the weight of everything collapse on him, within him. He slowly dropped to his knees and shifted his gaze away from the little girl's face, undeserving of the eye contact.

Tony almost jumped when the small arms wrapped around him. There were no words of comfort, no gentle reassurances. Just two slender, soft arms stretching themselves as far as they could around his trembling shoulders.

And he really wanted to cry. Whether out of relief, worry, sorrow, frustration…he didn't know. Brokenness spread like a slow-forming spider web, and he couldn't possibly pinpoint the cause of each fracture. He just really wanted to never move, melt into the embrace. He really just wanted to cry.

But he didn't. And for the moment, that was ok, because Cadence's arms were still wrapped around him, holding his broken pieces together. And that was more than he could ever ask for.

* * *

**Spaces for the **_**Author's Note Fandom Convention**_** are filling fast! But there's still plenty of room, so if you're w****illing to take a nice trip to the East Coast to meet your favorite authors/readers/fans, please PM or email me (both options available on Sparkie and I's profile—but don't tell her, it's a surprise!)…It's going to be a blast, and we'd love to see all of you there!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks for the encouragement, you guys! You're all wonderful readers, reviewers, and friends. I figured today would be as good a day as any, with tonight being such a big ep!**

**Shout-out to my reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, Madances, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, Mulderette, julie250, JaneDoe19291915, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, Alisa123, Emiliana Keladry, dbd823, whynotlive, Candy77, blarney, Surreal Squirrel, Glow60, Pough, Jackilee, **_**and the two **_**nameless anonymous reviewers**_**…I'm overwhelmed by the support and appreciate every bit of it. Thank you all!**

* * *

Ziva David was hard woman. On the outside, and some may even argue on the inside, too. She used to have a soft side, a gentle side. It came out in misspoken phrases and offhand humor, showing its affection in flirtatious comments and sparkling brown eyes.

Her eyes were darker now. Shaded. The sparkle was rare, the comments sparse. Her broken-up phrases strung themselves together with dignity and experience; her humor became biting and sharp, less of a tease, more of a jab. Less of a carefree laugh, more of a gauging smile.

The hair that used to frizz and curl of its own accord now lay flat against her back. The untamed mane was now styled, straightened, fixed. The olive skin which never bore foreign coloring in the past was now smudged with hints of color, patted and primped to painted perfection. The unrestrained smiles, winks, and words died gradually, leaving bitterness, narrowed eyes, and sometimes wistful sighs in their place.

The uninhibited trust in those around her…it didn't leave _per se_, but built a small fence around itself to protect in case of betrayal, pain, disappointment, or all three.

The untamed became tamed, the clear became clouded, the love became regret, and the free became guarded.

She wished sometimes that things could be as they once were, but most of the time she tries not to think about it at all.

Yet now, seeing Tony literally fall to his knees…she couldn't help but think about it.

There he was, a man in a dire situation, wounded, desperate, and—worse than anything—alone, which she knew for a fact was something Tony both despised and feared. He was stuck in a dangerous position, with no backup and the fates of complete strangers in his hands.

She had spent her time so far studying the tactical solutions, the practical outcomes, the logical possibilities and blunt reality. But now, those meaningless pieces of information were gone from her mind, and all she could focus on was the little girl on the screen, wrapping her thin arms around Tony's shoulders. All she could see was the deflation of Tony's body…whether out of relief or resignation she did not know.

All she knew was that, with the scene before her and the feelings within her, a piece of the hardness inside softened, leaving worry to seep through the re-discovered vulnerability.

She threw up a brief prayer, something she did not do often.

_Keep them safe. Keep them safe and get them out._

She only hoped it would be enough.

**. . .**

"Tony?" Cadence asked, thoughtful in her tone.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"When is Mommy coming back?"

_Deep breath. Maintain your composure. Mask your face. Guard your eyes._

"I'm not sure, Cadence…but I do know that everything's gonna be just fine, so there's no need to w-"

"-worry about it. I know that already," the girl interrupted with a frustrated sigh. After another thoughtful pause, she asked a bit hesitantly, "Do you pinky promise?"

Tony swallowed. "Do I pinky promise what?"

Guarded hope filled the small voice. "That everything is going to be ok."

The war between what he needed to say and what Cadence needed to hear raged on; it was the age-old conflict of mind and heart, and Tony wished that for once in his life, the decision could be simple.

No such luck.

Present conscience vs. eventual backlash. Appease her, but face difficulties down the road, when keeping promises shows itself to be less easy than expected? Or tell her the truth of uncertainty now, and be left with the fallout…

Though the war continued, the battle was won. Tony held out his pinky and nodded.

"Pinky promise."

Cadence nodded as well and silence ensued. Tony took a few deep, shaky breaths and stretched to relieve the tension in his back. The small movement pulled harshly on his inflamed side and he sucked in painfully. Cadence looked at him with nervous, knowing eyes, but didn't say anything.

"Hey," Marsh said loudly, to no one in general. She paused her rapid paces and looked carefully around the lobby. Then, more to herself, she said, "Something's off."

Tony held his breath as Marsh's shadowed eyes narrowed and examined the room, flicking from person to person, tallying in her head.

"You've got a roomful of innocent hostages, lady. _Everything's_ off," Tony replied smoothly. He got the reaction he intended, distracting Marsh enough for her to stop counting. She turned to him coldly.

"Latecomer, I've come to the conclusion that you talk way too much, and I'd prefer not to hear the endless stream of irritating _bullshit_ coming out of your mouth."

Tony bit back a retort, instead eyeing the detonator still planted firmly in Marsh's grip. _Don't push it, DiNozzo. Her hand must be getting tired by now._

Marsh smoothly glided over to where the mistress was still tied to the chair. The woman had stopped whimpering awhile ago, and her eyes had taken on a glazed look of unawareness. Tony wasn't sure when that had happened, but it left him with an eerily cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. But the cold didn't overshadow the stinging throb of his wound, and Tony looked away from the mistress's face.

Without warning, Marsh grabbed the corner of the duct tape covering the woman's mouth and ripped it off. The mistress didn't even flinch.

"This ought to do the job," Marsh said with a small grin. She came over and mashed it over Tony's mouth, pressing down firmly. "I think it's time to relocate as well, don't you?"

Tony stretched his lips, but the duct tape held firm.

Marsh snatched up some of the cord discarded on the ground from before. There was no gentleness in her motions as she roughly secured Tony's hands behind his back, using her teeth and free hand. The other hand continued to squeeze the detonator.

Cadence shot Tony a nervous look, but before he could give her a meaningful one in return, Marsh dragged him to the corner of the room, where a few men were quietly seated.

"This should do," Marsh said with a satisfied smirk. "I trust you won't make any more trouble, latecomer?"

Tony didn't nod, but Marsh didn't seem to care. She spun on her heel and walked back across the room before settling in a chair and falling into apparent deep thought. She stared down at the detonator in her hand, tilting her head as if studying it.

_Looks like she's got a decision to make, too._

**. . .**

"Are we any closer to shutting down those bombs?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"They're working on it, Boss," McGee replied.

"The LEOs are taking care of the hostages who escaped," Ziva chimed in. "Their efforts are majorly focused on that, but the Techs are exploring various solutions."

"So once again, we wait," McGee said with a sigh. They all sighed with him, expelling the taint of worry and fear from their collective lungs.

Gibbs's gut was doing somersaults. He hoped to God it didn't mean anything, but the horrible taste of dread bubbled up his throat.

**. . .**

"Someone has got to do something."

Tony inwardly cringed at the stereotypical hero line. It came from one of the men five or ten feet away. He looked to be thirty or so, and was surrounded by a group spanning from early 20s to late 50s. They all looked at him intently, as if he was a prophet, as if he was their savior.

"That woman's going to blow this place up soon, using that detonator, right in her freaking hand. If we don't stop her, we're all going to die. I hate being so brutal, but we need to face the facts."

Tony clenched his fists in frustration, wishing he could tell the guy to shut up and let the cops do their job. But the duct tape held his words inside. _Come on, man, don't be stupid._

"All we have to do is get the detonator away from her. I've seen it in about a billion movies before, and if we use the element of surprise, we can get it out of her hands. As long as we keep her from pushing down the button on it, we can keep everyone safe."

_Push the button? It's a pressure-release trigger! The second she lets go, that's it. Damnit, just stop before you get us all killed._

"Yeah," one of the other men agreed. "That sounds like a good plan."

_No, it sounds like a stupid plan born from ignorance and a hero complex!_

Tony tugged on his bonds, grunting to get the men's attention. They didn't notice.

"Here's what'll happen," the leader said, lowering his voice. "It's pretty simple. One of you distract her; draw her attention so that her back is turned to me. Then, as soon as her focus is on you, I'll tackle her from behind, and hopefully knock the detonator out of her hand. If not, I'll try to wrestle it out. Either way, as soon as we get the detonator away from her, we all work together to tie the bitch up."

The group responded with scattered nods.

Tony kicked his foot, successfully drawing the men's attention. When they all looked at him, he shook his head vigorously, his message clear. _NO_.

"Look, sir," the leader said. "No offense, but you've gotten us in enough trouble already. This needs to be taken care of. Now."

Tony tried to speak through the duct tape, but it came out garbled and inaudible.

"It's ok. Just stay calm. We're taking care of it."

_No, you're _not_. Just shut up and sit there like a good freaking hostage already!_

But the men had turned their attention away from Tony and were conferring too quietly for him to hear anything further.

Frustration built in Tony until it was overflowing. Stagnancy was killing him, and he had no means of relief.

A few minutes later, Marsh was still lost in thought and Tony's wrists were raw from trying to get his hands free. The men, who'd been huddled closely, spread out. They were about to put their plan into action. Tony growled deeply through the tape over his mouth.

One of the younger men crawled inconspicuously away from the group, determination in his eyes. Tony groaned pleadingly.

_Please, for Christ's sake, you don't know what you're doing. Stop, before it's too late!_

The leader came over quietly, sympathy written all over his face.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know it's frustrating for you, but you've done your part. You've played your roll. Now it's our turn to resolve the situation. We know what we're doing, sir, and we appreciate that you want to help more, but sometimes you just need to sit the bench."

_NO. NO. NO. You can_not _do this. The second the detonator leaves that woman's hand, it's over for all of us. Just _wait_, damnit!_

But the man couldn't hear, didn't understand, and Tony's anguished pleas were left to drown him from the inside out.

"Trust us," the man said with a light smile. And he fucking _winked_. Tony felt ill.

The worst part was that the man really did mean well. He thought he was doing the right thing. He didn't know that he was destroying everything.

Tony pulled at his bindings with all his strength.

They didn't budge; nor did the resolve in the room, his or the others'.

The man who'd crawled away stood confidently, within Marsh's vision.

"Hey, bitch." His voice trembled. Tony yelled into the tape.

Marsh sneered and stood up. "Excuse me?" She stepped closer, showing her gun.

"I think it's time you l-let everyone go before you do s-something you'll regret." The stuttering was sad and pathetic and why wouldn't the damn cord _break_ already!

"Oh, really?" Marsh said. She took another step.

And another step.

The leader saw his opportunity.

He began a dead sprint at Marsh, all of his momentum barreling toward the unsuspecting woman.

Finally, with an unfortunate crunching of bone, Tony wrenched his arm free from the bonds. The cord around his wrists snapped and fell to the floor, leaving his hands to tingle and throb. He was almost certain he'd broken a finger or two in the feat, but the feeling was swept away by the panic pumping rapidly through his veins.

Tony's hand went directly to his mouth and he ripped off the duct tape.

The man was inches from Marsh, his body sailing through the air.

_No_. In his mind, it was a breathy whisper. In his heart, it was an agonized screech.

Tony screamed, unashamed of the rabid desperation in his voice.

"NO!-"

The strangled cry died in his throat as the air became heavy, clouded, hot. He choked on the shockwave.

They say that when something terrible happens, time slows and you see everything in devastating slowness. It was partly true. He saw everything. But he could do nothing. If the scene he saw matched up with real time, Tony would have thrown himself over Cadence, over anybody. But there wasn't time. Damnit, there just wasn't time.

He saw the tackle. The graceful arc of Marsh's body. The look of triumph on the supposed hero's face and the detonator was released from the woman's grip.

He saw the terror in Cadence's eyes. He saw her whip her head toward him, seeking solace, comfort, assurance.

Then, he saw nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hey, everyone! Posting this as I watch the finale! Sorry for the lateness. Convention planning has kept me pretty busy. If you're interested in attending, ****spaces are filling fast! But there's still plenty of room, so if you're willing to take a nice trip to the East Coast to meet your favorite authors/readers/fans, please PM or email me (both options available on Sparkie and I's profile—but don't tell her, it's a surprise!)…It's going to be a blast, and we'd love to see all of you there!**

**Shout-out to my (wonderfully fabulously FANTASTIC!) reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, CeCe Away, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, sparkesann, smush68, julie250, Jackilee, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, **__**GreenEyes09**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, Reloader, **__**Emiliana Keladry**__**, **__**dbd823**__**, Jamie Evans, **__**princessesmeralda**__**, **__**Surreal Squirrel**__**, **__**olympianchef213**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, mbj, **_**and the nameless**_** anonymous **_**reviewer**

* * *

A ripple shot through Gibbs gut when Marsh duct-taped Tony's mouth, tied his hands, and shoved him in the corner. The ripple expanded when the men near Tony began to talk.

"McGee, can you turn it up or something?" Gibbs asked, struggling to make out the quiet words of the men.

"Enhancing the audio now, Boss." After a few seconds, the voices of the men rand clearly through the area.

The voices came through loud and clear, as did Tony's pained grunts of frustration. The ripple hit Gibbs harder.

But what hit Gibbs the hardest was the silence. The man spoke to Tony with unwavering confidence. He spoke with sightless ignorance.

"Boss, what are we going to do?" Ziva's panicked voice broke through his musings. "We cannot let them carry out their plan."

Gibbs held his breath for a split second, torn and indecisive. But the risk always won over the certain outcome, and he stood quickly.

"Let's go."

McGee and Ziva were quick on their feet, up in a heartbeat, on their way in two.

The three rushed toward the back entrance where they'd let Tony in. On their way, they caught flashes of a few of the escaped hostages. Blankets were draped around their shoulders, water in hand. They all had a perpetually nervous look on their face, and seemed to be speaking, but Gibbs and the rest of the team were moving too fast to make out the words.

They slammed one foot in front of the other, dragging the pavement with them, sprinting to the bank.

_40 feet…30 feet…20-_

Gibbs felt another ripple tear violently through his gut.

But this one was much more tangibly experienced. It wasn't internal and wrenching like most. It was sharp and swift, shoving the breath out of his body with no hesitation.

This one had a little less to do with foreshadowing and a little more to do with the massive shockwave reverberating through the area.

All three of them were thrown on their asses, barely feeling a thing as they watched—in seeming slow motion—the monstrous building collapse onto itself.

No one said a word.

No one needed to.

No one dared suck in a breath.

In that moment, no one really wanted to.

**. . .**

Tony opened his eyes, head pounding, breath heavy and labored. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was, what was happening. It was like that moment when you wake up from a terrible dream, and you can't quite recall the details or even basic happenings within the nightmare. All that's left is a vague sense of sadness, loss, hopelessness. And you wake up, looking around, having the overwhelming feeling that nothing you could get up and do would ever be worth it.

You don't know why. You just know it's true.

Tony was dazed, in pain, deeply upset, and didn't know why. But he knew it was true.

He started to roll over and gasped as blinding pain shot through his core. It radiated from his middle and spread to every nerve in his body. He pinched his eyes shut and coughed weakly, waiting for the intense throb to even out.

When it finally dulled, Tony cracked his eyes open. It was dark all around him, except for a few slivers of light peeking through the wreckage. He glanced down at his abdomen.

Dark wetness covered the entire lower half of his shirt. Still dazed, he wondered distantly why he was sweating so profusely. And why his sweat was so dark and thick.

Then, he peeled up the shirt and saw the deep, swollen hole in his flesh. And discovered that the sweat wasn't sweat at all.

That's when it all came rushing back with crushing force.

"Cadence!" Tony gasped, shooting upright. Pain flared, but all that was in his mind was the face of the little girl, brown eyes wide and terrified, seeking solace in the man who was supposed to guard her, protect her.

Long brown hair flashed through his mind. A white frayed dress slid through his thoughts.

Tony began digging, anywhere and everywhere. Wherever his hands made contact, debris was viciously displaced.

And he didn't stop. Minutes that felt like hours passed, his body throbbed and stung, his heart beat painfully in his chest. But he didn't stop.

"Please, please, please," Tony mumbled, voice cracking on every syllable. He hands dug tirelessly through the stone, metal, and surfeit of other debris, bringing up nothing but dust and disappointment with each desperate swipe.

Blood covered his hands, smearing across everything he touched. He wasn't sure if it was from new wounds or old ones, and couldn't quite bring himself to care.

"Come ON!" he shouted angrily, shoving a small pile of rubble out of the way.

Nothing met him but the deafening, unrelenting silence in his ears. It was the all-consuming presence of failure, of panic, of where-the-fuck-_is_-she-please-God-let-her-be-okay.

The silence was so acute, it buzzed with rapid life in Tony's ears. He heard nothing and everything at the same time. The sound and lack of sound pulsed through his confused, desperate mind and attacked it with equal vigor. It buzzed and buzzed and buzzed until finally it exploded within him, and he let loose a feral cry of anger, frustration, and raw and utter grief.

He slumped brokenly on his knees, very similar to the position he'd been in not an hour before.

But this time there was no embrace, no comfort, no _Cadence_ to keep him from falling apart. So he allowed the agony of the silence to shatter him inside, leaving the destroyed pieces that used to be him to just crumple into a mass of regret and guilt and pain and grief and-

_What was that?_

His breath stunted as he stiffened.

It was a rustle. Or a voice. Or a groan.

_Or a figment of your imagination, DiNozzo._

He didn't want to believe it, so Tony silenced the voice in the back of his mind.

He continued to hold his breath. One second…Two seconds…Three seconds…

The sound shot through the buzzing silence, hitting Tony with the force of the explosion itself, guiding him like a burning beacon.

It was tiny, miniscule, nearly imperceptible.

But it was there.

The tiniest, gentlest, quietest whimper Tony could imagine. It sounded as if it could fade into the air, yet rang stridently in Tony's ears. The silence was banished, the buzz exiled.

It took him no more than a heartbeat to throw his broken body toward the sound.

He still had yet to take another breath, for fear of sucking in the soft noise and blowing it away.

It came to his ears again, the unmistakable whimper of a child, a heartbreaking sound which electrified his core and forced his arms to lift stronger, dig faster, work harder.

The skin tore off his fingertips and palms, fresh blood trailing down his wrists as jagged chunks of debris sliced into him. But he didn't stop. He'd never stop.

The sound became louder. Tony worked harder. He didn't think about what might face him when he uncovered the source of the sound, but couldn't spare the time to do so anyway.

And just like that, his hands slammed into a large piece of what looked to be cement, spanning at least 3 or 4 feet long and wide. And just beneath it…the whimpering. It was clear now, cracking with heartbreaking loss and innocence and confusion.

Tony hooked his hands beneath the large slab, and yanked with all his might, not caring how it was displaced or what it did to his already-abused body. He only cared that it was gone, out of his way, shoved aside.

So he shoved and yanked and strained every muscle in his body to lift the concrete up just enough to push it away. It scraped against the surrounding rubble, only scooting a foot or so from Tony's trembling hands.

But it was enough.

Tony looked down, eyes not totally comprehending the sight before him, heart afraid to trust those same eyes too much.

"T-Tony…" The voice was a flutter, a sob, and relief rolled into one.

Cadence was curled weakly before him. Her dress was ripped and spattered in dirt and blood. Her hair was tangled and snarled. Her face was dirtied and dark, a thin line of red liquid tracing itself down the side of her face.

And she wasn't wearing shoes. Tony figured that wasn't relevant at all, but he noticed. The pretty white sandals must've gotten blown off in the explosion, leaving Cadence barefoot. The crusted, dusty toes curled as Tony took in the girl's image.

She gazed up at him with those wide, brown eyes, and even with the grime, dust, and blood matting her hair and smudging her face…Tony couldn't help but find her the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And even if just for that moment, no one else mattered. For all the selfishness and guilt he might feel later for it, he didn't care.

Because if just for that moment, it was only Cadence and him, and she was looking at him, aware of him, _there_ with him.

And if just for the moment, that was all that mattered.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: You guys are too great. Seriously, too amazing and wonderful and I can't thank any of you enough!**

**Shout-out to my (superbly fabulous!) reviewers:**

_**tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, smush68, julie250, Jackilee, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, sarahsrr, **__**wunsleh**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**dbd823**__**, **__**olympianchef213**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, mbj, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**CindyT63**__**, **__**zerolikeice**__**, **__**The Quiet Observer**__**, **__**Veryfairygirl14**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, AmILeo, **_**and the nameless**_** anonymous **_**reviewer**

* * *

Tony heard no other noises, not even the slightest wheeze, other than the one coming from Cadence's small form. The wreckage around them seemed endless, smoldering and heavy. It stretched on and on, and Tony couldn't even tell where the building ended and the outside began.

In all likelihood, the other hostages were dead. It was a miracle he and Cadence hadn't been killed instantly. The rest were not so lucky. Marsh, the mistress, the would-be hero…none of them was to be seen.

But he was seeing Cadence right in front of him, and the self-protective part of his mind chose to focus on that.

"H-Hey, kiddo," Tony said. His raw voice trembled, along with the hand that he outstretched toward Cadence. His bruised, swollen fingers ghosted over her shuddering form, afraid to touch, still afraid to believe.

"Tonyyyyyyyyy," the voice groaned brokenly. The syllable was drawn-out and unequivocally _lost_. She was six, for Christ's sake. How could she be expected to understand what was happening, the evil of bad people…the ignorance of good?

Cadence's normally vivid brown eyes were clouded, cracked open in small slits.

"Tony," she repeated.

The single word screamed so much more.

_Tony, what's happening? _

_Tony, where's Mommy? And that bad lady? And the other people?_

_Tony, why does it hurt?_

_Tony, why aren't we safe and ok, like you promised we would be? _

_Tony…why did you lie to me?_

Tony began running his hands gently over Cadence's arms, legs, midsection, and everywhere to check for injuries. He cringed as his probing fingers left trails of red wherever they touched. He ran his hand around her small leg, and his heart caught in his throat at the realization that he could easily enclose the tiny limb with his palm and it was so small and she was only fucking _six_.

It was like seeing a puppy with a limp. There was just something inherently sad and wrong with the picture. Something that made you feel heart wrenchingly helpless. Something that Tony had never wanted to feel, and never wanted to feel again.

Cadence moaned as Tony touched her ribs.

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry, kiddo. But I need to see if you're ok. Does it hurt anywhere, sweetheart?"

Cadence nodded, eyes pinched tightly shut. "Right t-there," she hissed. Tony laid his palm carefully against the spot on the side of Cadence's tiny ribcage. He felt a small bone give easily under the miniscule weight of his hand and Cadence cried out weakly.

He'd broken his first rib playing football senior year. He had put on a brave face, gone to the hospital, then promptly locked himself in the bathroom and sobbed like a toddler at the stabbing pain and frustration of not even being able to _breathe_ without feeling it.

Apart from the grime and blood, Cadence's face was dry.

Tony picked up her thin arm, the one that had held him not so long ago, keeping him together. Keeping him grounded. It now hung limply from her shoulder, the forearm clearly angled in a way it shouldn't be. Cadence whimpered as he traced his fingers along the break. He'd seen worse, and right now was concerned more with the faint wheeze coming from the young girl's breathing.

Said breathing picked up nervously as Tony remained silent.

"I-Is it bad?" Cadence asked. The haze had cleared from her eyes a bit, most likely due to the adrenaline of fear flooding her system. After all, she didn't know what was going on. All she knew was the rubble around her, the pain inside her, and the uncertainty within her.

After all, she was six. _Six_.

"Nah," Tony replied with a shrug. Surmising that moving her wouldn't upset her injuries too greatly, he pulled her to him gently, sure to avoid the broken arm and rib (ribs? God, he hoped not).

She held her breath, but otherwise showed no signs of pain. Tony supposed he should be impressed, but all he felt was fear and sadness.

"I've broken my arm before. It's stings at first, but gets better. I promise," Tony said, gently hugging Cadence to him from the side.

She gave him a tired smile, the first since they'd woken up. Tony never wanted it to leave her face.

"_Pinky_ promise?" she challenged.

He confidently clasped his pinky with hers. Then, he nodded.

Cadence blinked her eyes sluggishly. "When did you break your arm?" she asked with curiosity.

_Hmm, the first, second, or third time?_

"A few years ago," he found himself answering. "I was at my friend's apartment and got into a bit of a fight."

The brown eyes widened slightly. "A f…fight?" Cadence asked, pausing to breathe.

"Yeah," Tony replied. He narrowed his eyes at the stuttered deep breaths, coughing slightly. After a few moments, Cadence's difficult breathing seemed to relax. "You see, my…friend_…_" _Partner, friend, friend with benefits? When did it all become so complicated? _"…Ziva. She-"

"Ziva?" Cadence questioned, squinting her eyes confusedly. "That's her _name_?"

Tony gave a small laugh which turned into a small barking cough which turned into a big hacking fit. It took him a few seconds to regain his composure and open his eyes. When he did, he saw Cadence staring widely and worriedly at him, completely still.

He cleared his throat and shot her a grin. "Tickle in my throat."

He didn't expect her to believe him completely, but hoped she wouldn't ask. He hoped she wouldn't ask anything, because in the vast entanglement of the situation, Tony only knew one thing for sure: He had no answers.

"So what does your friend look like?" Cadence asked. For the moment, her eyes were clear and focused. Tony could only hope they'd stay that way. "Is she pretty?"

_On the inside or outside? Hell, who am I to judge either…_

"Very," Tony replied. Full, curly hair blossomed in front of his eyes, accompanied by soulful, sparkling brown eyes. He heard a light laugh, felt gentle fingers on his face. He could taste soft kisses and unspoken words on his lips.

Then, his heart pounded with memory, and he saw flat hair, darkened eyes. He heard a cruel laugh and felt asphalt slamming against aching back, rattling his broken arm.

He could taste the bitter sting of betrayal and confusion on his regretful lips.

"Is she your _girlfriend_?" Cadence said with a smirk. Her eyes danced playfully and for a split second, she was just a little girl. Not a hurt little girl. Not a traumatized little girl.

Not a motherless little girl.

Just a little girl.

"No," Tony replied. His voice was far away. Cadence noticed, and her face softened.

"Do you wish she was?"

Leave it to the six-year-old to ask one of the most unanswerable questions of his life…But somehow, hearing it put so bluntly, so simply…it didn't seem as unanswerable now.

"Not anymore."

And honest to God, he thought it just might be the truth.

Cadence sighed, obviously picturing her own fairytale of princes and love and stolen kisses. He hoped hers would turn out better than his had. He had a feeling it would.

"How did you meet?" Cadence asked. Her broken arm was cradled to her chest, broken bones resting protectively against one another.

Images of bullet holes and broken hearts were quickly whisked away. It had become reflex to him by now. "We work together."

Cadence nodded before taking a deep breath. She cringed and a pained sound escaped her lips.

"You ok, sweetheart?" Tony asked, hazel eyes blazing with concern. He held in the wet cough making its way up his throat.

"Hurts," Cadence hissed. Her uninjured arm wrapped itself tightly around Tony's, outletting the pain she wouldn't express through tears.

Cadence wasn't crying, and part of Tony wished she would.

"I know. You just sit tight, kiddo," Tony said, tightening his arm around Cadence. "There are people outside that are going to get us out of here. They're gonna save us."

Cadence's eyes drooped slightly before she shook her head from side to side. It was the shake of a kid falling asleep in class, trying to stay aware. And God how Tony wished that was where Cadence was right now.

"What are they like?" Cadence mumbled, nuzzling into Tony's side.

He roused the young girl gently, and the brown eyes shot open.

"They're great," Tony answered. "Ziva, the one I was telling you about…She's strong and smart and—don't tell anyone I said this, but—pretty darn intimidating."

Cadence breathed a small giggle. Then stiffened and held her breath, waiting for the pain to pass.

"And McGee, he's one of the smartest guys I know. Started out pretty shaky, but not anymore. You shoulda seen him when we first started working together…Turned green whenever one of us got a paper cut. But not anymore. He's…" Tony paused.

And suddenly it hit him that they might not get out of this.

The sticky blood still flowing from his gut felt acidic on his skin. And all he could think about was that he might never get to see Probie again. The geek-boy turned dapper agent, the man he'd grown to appreciate and care about and miss like hell if he was ever gone. If they didn't get out—and soon—he might never see his Probie reach his full potential, though he was well on his way.

"He's a great guy," Tony finished thickly. "And my boss…"

Cadence slumped slightly against him, drawing panic from his every fiber.

"Hey, hey, Cadence," he said loudly, tapping her face.

"Tir'd," Cadence mumbled groggily. Her body began to relax, slipping down a bit.

Tony scooped his arm under the small girl's armpit, tugging her upward. "Sweetheart, hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to fall in the sleep in the middle of a story?"

He hoped the fear in his voice wasn't as icy and overwhelming as it felt within him.

"I mean, I know I'm not the most interesting guy in the world, but I hope I'm not _that_ boring…"

_Please stay awake, sweetheart. We'll be ok soon._

Even when only internally spoken, Tony prayed he wouldn't break another promise.

"Tony," Cadence said shakily. "I know you said not to, but I think I'm getting scared again." She looked up at Tony, brown orbs full of apprehension, as if afraid he'd be mad at her.

_Never. I could never be mad at you, for _anything_._

Tony coughed weakly, muffling the sound with his hand. "Don't be scared, sweetheart," he said roughly. "They're gonna find us."

Cadence nodded feebly. "Ok," she responded.

That was all it took. Blind trust, complete faith, and a simple promise.

Ok.

"_They're gonna find us."_

He couldn't help but pray his words were true as he coughed again, his hand coming away speckled with red.

Ok.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Hey all! I know I told some of you that the Gibbs decription would be in this chapter, but I worked it into next chapter instead. This chap focuses on the team and their efforts, but next chap goes right back to Tony and Cadence.**

**Shout-out to my (magnificently astounding) reviewers:**

_**Tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, smush68, BnBfanatic, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__**, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, **__**wunsleh**__**, **__**GreenEyes09**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**dbd823**__**, **__**princessesmeralda**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**zerolikeice**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, AmILeo, **__**The Exodus of Genesis**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, Emiliana Keladry**_ **and the 2 nameless**_** anonymous **_**reviewers**

* * *

"Enough," Gibbs barked, shoving away the medic's hand. The insistent woman tried once again to dab at the small wound on his head, but Gibbs locked eyes with her and she froze. "I have a job to do."

"Sir, I very much appreciate that fact, but head wounds are-"

Gibbs stood up and gave the woman a dubious look, dismissing the exaggeration. "It's hardly a paper cut."

"Yeah," the woman shot back. "And paper cuts hurt."

Gibbs released a small growl as the officer they'd spoken to before stepped forward.

"Agent Gibbs, there's nothing you can do. Might as well let them treat you," Gordon said.

Gibbs stiffened. "What the hell are you talking about? My team and I are going in."

He glanced over briefly at Ziva and McGee, both bruised and probably sore, but other than that, no worse for wear. Ziva held a small ice pack to her shoulder, while McGee rubbed the butterfly bandage over his eye gingerly. The two made their way to the surveillance area, which had remained majorly unaffected by the explosion.

Gazing past his agents, Gibbs could clearly see a black screen where the interior of the bank had once been shown. The camera hadn't survived.

Not that he'd expected it to. But to see the evidence right in front of him, to be confronted indisputably with the reality that had just occurred, imagining Tony amidst the mess and smolder…it was enough to shake even the impenetrable Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

McGee and Ziva obviously came to the same conclusion as he watched their shoulders slump. The ice pack Ziva had been holding was flung some forty feet away as the woman attempted to reign in her anger.

Flying glass and the force of the explosion had caused the brunt of their bumps and bruises.

Much harder to treat were the wounds that had cut themselves into each team member. The slices that tore into each of them as they watched the massive destruction of the bank…and imagined the impact it had on those inside.

"—Gibbs. Agent Gibbs!" Officer Gordon shouted, having been trying to get Gibbs's attention.

"What," Gibbs snapped curtly, looking back to the man.

"I said, the building isn't stable. No one's going in there until the first responders clear it."

Gibbs just shook his head. "Nope, we're going in. Now."

"No, Agent, you're _not_. We're not jeopardizing people's lives to save a handful of people who might not even be alive anyway."

Gibbs took a step closer to the man, eyes glinting dangerously. His tone was controlled and icy. "Whoever is stuck in there right now is injured, probably dying. We leave them in there while we wait for the building to be cleared, there's no way they'll survive."

Officer Gordon didn't back down.

"You go in there blind and unprotected; you're screwing anyone in there who _did_ survive."

"Boss," McGee interrupted urgently. He was holding the small portable speakers in his hands, the ones that had been sitting beside the now-blank monitor. "You should hear this."

Ziva followed close behind McGee, and everyone's attention was drawn to the crackling coming from the small amplifiers.

"McGee, wha-" But Gibbs stopped. His voice halted. Because he heard the faint, almost indistinguishable, yet entirely _present_ murmur of voices. Two of them.

"…_s…orry, kid…need…see…k… hurt an…where, sw…heart?"_

"_Righ'…there."_

Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva allowed a small wave of relief to crest and crash upon them. That first voice was so distinctly _Tony_, and the second so heartbreakingly _young_. It was them. They were ok, at least for the moment, _alive_, at least for a time.

"Is there any way you can clean it up?" Officer Gordon asked, arms crossed.

McGee nodded. "With the help of the tech department, I think we can sift through the static and get a better hold on what's being said."

"Do it," Gibbs ordered.

McGee scurried off, Ziva once again following suit silently.

Gibbs grabbed his jacket off the edge of the ambulance. "Now you and your men can supervise using the wire transmission, and keep us updated from the outside."

"That implies that you're going _inside_, Agent Gibbs." A hint of aggravation leaked into the officer's tone.

"That's because I _am_," Gibbs growled in return.

Gordon shook his head. "We've been over this. You and your team are not stepping foot into that wreckage of a bank until we know it's safe. While good progress, this changes nothing."

"Goddamnit!" Gibbs screamed in rage. Anger wasn't an emotion foreign to him. Not at all. But this was different. This wasn't just frustration or irritation. It wasn't annoyance or impatience.

It was _desperation_.

It was _helplessness_, one of the few things Leroy Jethro Gibbs had yet to train himself to handle.

He swung his arm, catching the open door of the ambulance and viciously slamming it shut. The medical personnel nearby shot him alarmed looks, partly fearful, partly upset. Gibbs almost felt sorry, but then images of a little girl wrapping herself around his senior agent assaulted his mind, and he couldn't bring himself to care about anything else.

"So you're telling me we're supposed to sit here on our asses and listen to those people die? You want me to listen to _my_ agent and a little girl _die_? Is that what you're saying, _Officer_?" The title was spat with sarcastic insult. Gibbs hoped the man noticed.

"Until we can stabilize the situation, that is exactly what I'm saying, Agent Gibbs. I don't like it any more than you do, but that's the way it is. You can stay and help in any way you can or you can _leave_."

Even with Gibbs's burning glare, the man didn't back down. Gibbs would be impressed if he wasn't so damn pissed.

"Your choice, Agent Gibbs," Officer Gordon said. He didn't even blink.

Neither did Gibbs.

"I'm getting my agent and any other survivors out of that bank, Officer Gordon."

"I know."

"And when it's crunch time, no one and nothing can stop me from doing that."

"No one wants to, Agent. We're all after the same thing here. It's just a matter of safety and opportunity." He relaxed sympathetically from his heightened posture. "We're not giving up on your man. But we can't allow you, your team, or anyone else to put themselves at risk in the process."

Gibbs stared at him intensely for a moment before spinning on his heel and walking away without a word.

Officer Gordon let out a deep breath as he watched the man stroll toward his other two agents. His hand absentmindedly whisked through his thinning hair.

_I'm getting too old for this shit._

_**. . .**_

"Is it working, McGee?" Ziva asked, leaning forward to see what McGee and they tech team were doing. The small group was typing, fidgeting, and trying their best to eradicate the static screaming its way through the speakers.

"Almost," McGee muttered. He, too, was leaning forward, face inches from the computer screen. "Just have to…" His voice tapered off.

Then, the deafening static receded, leaving a voice, clear as day. It rang through the speakers like an opening in the sky, all relief and light and hope.

"…_gonna save us."_

"Tony," McGee and Ziva both breathed, locking excited eyes with one another.

"_What are they like?"_

Neither of them had to say Cadence's name to express the relief that touched their hearts.

"_They're great…Ziva, the one I was telling you about…She's strong and smart and—don't tell anyone I said this, but—pretty darn intimidating."_

McGee shot a sideways glance at Ziva, who was staring at the speakers with shock and amusement and sadness. And perhaps a tinge of regret, but McGee didn't have time to further analyze as Tony's voice continued.

"_And McGee, he's one of the smartest guys I know. Started out pretty shaky, but not anymore. You shoulda seen him when we first started working together…Turned green whenever one of us got a paper cut. But not anymore. He's…He's a great guy…"_

Ziva was blatant in her observation of McGee. And seeing the raw mixture of surprise and appreciation on his face brought her closer to in-the-moment emotion than she'd been in longer than she cared to consider.

"_And my boss…"_

They looked at each other, eager to hear what their partner had to say about Gibbs.

"_Hey, hey, Cadence."_

The immediate shift of tone and ambiance was uneasily noted.

"_Tir'd." _

The voice was far away and weak, but acutely present enough to drop their hearts into their stomachs.

"_Sweetheart, hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to fall in the sleep in the middle of a story? I mean, I know I'm not the most interesting guy in the world, but I hope I'm not _that_ boring…"_

The fear that had invaded their own souls now leaked through Tony's panicked voice, and they wanted nothing more than to take his place, take Cadence's place, end this whole nightmare.

"_Tony…I know you said not to, but I think I'm getting scared again." _

_So are we, _McGeeand Ziva thought simultaneously.

"_Don't be scared, sweetheart. They're gonna find us."_

Determination exploded inside each of them.

"_Ok."_

The ensuing silence, apart from muffled hacking in the background, did nothing to encourage them.

"We must save them." Ziva's voice was caught between a whisper and an avowal, leaving McGee to wonder at how a little girl and longtime partner had managed to seep through the cracks of an exterior which had only hardened through the years.

But he supposed that was Ziva's coping mechanism…had been all along. She had the ability to absorb the events in her life without engaging in a way she was afraid to. Emotionally, sensitively, empathetically. She absorbed and observed and internalized until every event, every conversation, every betrayal, every heartbreak, _everything_…became a mass inside of her, compacting itself into tiny bits of resolve. The mass hardened with each word, solidified with each wayward glance. Absorb, internalize, compact, harden. It was a vicious cycle of detachment and indifference. One which Ziva herself perhaps did not see herself partaking in.

Until now.

"We must save them." The repetition was so self-oriented that McGee felt as if he was intruding on a personal breakthrough...or maybe breakdown.

Only time would tell which.

The two could very well come hand in hand.

"We will," he said simply.

The two fell silent.

Because, really, there was nothing more to say.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: No excuse for the longer-than-usual wait. But I hope this chapter is still ok! Thanks so much for the continued reviews and support! I really am blessed, and so appreciate all you faithful readers/reviewers.**

**Shout-out to my (phenomenally supertaculous!) reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, tiffaroolou, xenascully, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, CeCe Away, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, smush68, julie250, JaneDoe19291915, Jackilee, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, DS2010, Emiliana Keladry, dbd823, TeamDiNozzo, Lidil, Veryfairygirl14, Candy77, tansysam, The Exodus of Genesis, ihearttony, Zoyarose, CSIGeekFan, AnnaMorrison, faldo, CherokeeIrish **_**and the**_** nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewer**_

* * *

"So what about your b-boss?" Cadence asked quietly. Her head was resting against Tony, her body curled into his side. Tony draped his arm around her, mindful of her injuries.

"Well," Tony said. "He's unlike any guy you've met. That I guarantee."

Cadence remained silent, other than her noisy breathing, waiting for Tony to continue.

"He used to be a Marine—it's kinda like the Army—so he's got all these rules that we have to follow. And if we don't, he likes to slap us over the head."

Cadence's mouth was agape in shock. "I-Is that allowed?"

Tony grinned. "Not really, but none of us mind. It's a sign of affection."

"Can't he just give you hugs?" There was such simplicity and innocence in the response that Tony had to keep himself from laughing. His gut was already throbbing, and if the copper taste in his mouth was any indication, his bloody coughing fit hadn't been a one-time occurrence.

So he settled for grin and skated his hand across the top of her hair playfully.

"That's not really his style," he said with a wink. "He's more the strong, silent type. Doesn't talk a lot, but says a lot, you know?" She didn't reply, but Tony had a feeling she understood. "He's a tough nut to crack…but he always comes through in the end. He's saved me more times than I can count, same with Ziva and McGee. We always seem to get ourselves into trouble, but Gibbs—that's his name—always finds a way to get us out of it. He'd probably never say it, but he'd do anything for us."

Cadence looked at Tony, an inscrutable expression on her face, thought stirring deeply in her eyes.

"Why doesn't he say it?" she asked curiously.

Tony pondered for a moment, unsure of how to respond in a way that a six-year-old could understand. "Well, he's…he's kinda like the moon. You almost never get to see all of him, and sometimes can't see him at all. But every once in a while, the sky clears, even if it's only for a second, and you get to see him…all of him. He'll smile or laugh or say something you don't expect. Sometimes he'll just look at you as if he knows something you don't, and is just waiting for you to figure it out."

Tony was rambling, and he knew it. But Cadence's deep brown eyes were hardly even blinking, enraptured by what he was saying, and for some reason, it made him never want to stop.

"And this crazy feeling comes over you. Like what you're doing is important…this feeling like you're worth something. And at the same time, you're a little bit shocked because it was the last thing you were expecting to feel, but somehow it's ok because he knows and that's all that matters."

_Way to be a girl, DiNozzo_, Tony thought to himself. He'd be embarrassed if he had the energy to be.

There was a beat of silence. And through the silence, a small voice broke through. It was quiet and meek and thoughtful, laden with assurance.

"He sounds like my daddy."

"Yeah?" Tony asked, eyebrows raised. He smiled pensively. _Yeah_. "I bet he does."

"Tony?" Cadence said, blinking back tears before they could slide out of her eyes. "I want my daddy. And my mommy. When am I gonna see them again?"

Tony forced himself to think about anything other than the panicked eyes of a condemned woman or the anguished uncertainty of a terrified father. He forced himself to think of anything but it, yet his mind kept circling back around to the remembered pleas and imagined supplications.

"I don't know," Tony answered honestly. "Hopefully soon."

His arm drew the small body closer, and he noticed how cool it felt against his skin. Or was he hotter than usual? He couldn't tell which, and didn't really want to know, as neither scenario was particularly comforting.

"All right," Cadence responded.

And that was that.

That was that, and Tony could only hold on tight to both the girl in his arms, slipping away, and the hope in his heart doing the same.

A sharp pain shot through his gut, and he clenched his teeth together tightly. The pain built and thudded, slamming into him, easing off. Slamming into him, easing off. It was a song of sharps and flats, a cacophony of hurt begging to be released. But a scream, a moan, even a whimper would tear away any reassurance he had instilled in Cadence's fragile psyche. So he took a breath, full of pain, and squeezed it in his lungs until it felt as if his chest would burst. Even that might hurt less.

He was so wrapped up in the pain radiating through his abdomen that when he heard a soft noise—almost like a moan—coming from across what used to be the room, he wasn't sure if it was real or just the noise inside him manifesting itself.

"Did you hear that?" Tony asked shakily.

Cadence sucked in a breath and nodded fearfully.

The groaning noise continued. It was persistent, but too muffled and pained to be easily identifiable. Man, woman, child, adult…Tony couldn't tell which.

"Do you think they're hurt?" Cadence whispered, somewhat breathlessly.

Tony didn't answer. And to Cadence, that was answer enough.

"We should…help them." Her voice was breathless and she paused in the middle to inhale and exhale.

Tony eyes the unsteady remains of the ceiling and rubble around them. He'd been lucky to dig Cadence out without displacing anything too greatly. He had been overwhelmed, desperate. His thinking and judgment had been clouded, and though he didn't regret it, he knew he couldn't make the same mistake again. When he had been tearing through the wreckage, he'd felt so alone, so hopeless, that any possible consequences skirted fleetingly out of his mind, chased away by fear. He'd been too scared to care what happened to him.

But he was living for two now. And he didn't know if he was brave enough to take another risk.

"Like you helped…me," Cadence continued. "We have to save them. Like you…saved me."

_How the hell can I say no to that?_

He placed a palm flat to the ground and shifted slowly, squinting at the area from which the sound came. His hesitancy was noted by the six-year-old, who laid her own hand atop his with gentle reassurance.

"Hey," she said, looking through his eyes and into his soul. "It'll be ok." A small smile played on her lips as she extended a slightly trembling pinky. "I pinky promise."

To even his own surprise, Tony took the pinky gratefully, hooking and holding like it was the last life jacket on a sinking ship.

Cadence's grin grew and she began to pull her hand away.

"Whoa," Tony said, mock shock plastered on his face. "You gotta nod, kiddo." Then, he winked. "Just the proper way to do these things, you know?"

The tiny giggle he received in return dispelled any hesitancy still creeping through his mind.

Then, another muffled groan sounded, distinctly louder than before.

He stilled for a moment, imagining who could be buried beneath the rubble, how hurt they were, if they could even be dug out—_Jesus, what if I can't dig them out? What if I just end up trapping them more, hurting them worse?_—He imagined the screams of pain, the deafening silence, the crushing disappointment on Cadence's face, the acidic guilt accumulating even more deeply within him.

Then, he imagined Cadence's small hand laying gently on his own, a comforting presence, an anchor, a lifeline. Something to hold onto, in more than one sense.

Then, he felt a light pressure, looked down at his dirty, bloodstained hand, and saw he wasn't imagining it at all.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Thanks for the patience, everyone! You all keep the story going!**

**Shout-out to my (superbly marvelous!) reviewers:**

**_BlueEyes444, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, Kermitty, _****_Long Live BRUCAS_****_, AZGirl , Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, smush68, julie250, _****_JaneDoe19291915_****_, Jackilee, _****_Caro June_****_, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, sarahsrr, _****_Emiliana Keladry_****_, _****_dbd823_****_, _****_olympianchef213_****_, _****_TeamDiNozzo_****_, _****_Lidil_****_, _****_Candy77_****_, _****_tansysam_****_, _****_The Exodus of Genesis_****_, _****_Callisto-HK_****_, ihearttony, _****_Zoyarose_****_, _****_AnnaMorrison_****_, _****_CherokeeIrish_****_, Kristafied, lelogan, _****_Deans Addiction_**, **and the_ nameless anonymous reviewer_**

**Also, a special thank you to **_**kookykey**_** and **_**BlueEyes444**_** for their inspiration and **_**Mc7ism**_** for helping me out of the writing confidence dumps…This chap wouldn't exist without the help of them and all of my wonderful reviewers! Honestly, I wish there was a way to thank you all super-personally, other than just listing you above. You guys keep me going with your encouragement and positivity, and I really appreciate it!**

* * *

"We've got to get in there," McGee said decidedly. He looked up from the speakers and saw Gibbs and Ziva, unreadable expressions on their faces. Then, he looked past them to see the small crew of workers examining and exploring the debris, trying to find the safest route in.

"Ya think?" Gibbs replied. He masked his eyes and turned around, facing the workers. Agony and guilt built in his eyes as Tony's voice repeated mercilessly in his head.

"…_he always comes through in the end. He's saved me more times than I can count…"_

What about this time? What if this time was different? What if DiNozzo has finally run out of almosts?

…_and I was the one to send him in, _Gibbs thought to himself. A new slice of guilt settled within him.

What if all the things Tony had said were the only things he'd have a chance to? Because, damnit, DiNozzo talked a lot, almost constantly. But this wasn't a movie reference. It wasn't a joke or vivid recounting of an escapade that may or may not have actually occurred. This was raw and unedited, a snapshot of the thoughts inside the senior agent. It was rare moment in its thoughtfulness and uninhibited _honesty._

"…_but somehow it's ok because he knows and that's all that matters."_

Gibbs shook his head._ You matter, too, Tony. More than you realize._

_More than a lot of people realize._

After a tense moment, he walked off to a more secluded area and sat, facing away from the team, in an unoccupied fold-up chair that had been shoved aside in the chaos of the situation. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, before clasping his hands together and leaning forward slightly.

From their vantage point, it looked to Ziva and McGee as if he was praying. But he wasn't. Because if Gibbs was praying, it meant things were really bad, and that wasn't the case. It wasn't.

"He's probably formulating some grand plan to save the day," McGee said. It didn't matter if either of them believed it or not.

"If the building is not stable, even Gibbs will not be able to get in." Ziva's voice was deep and sad, and McGee felt a sense of experience in her words.

But he didn't mention the name Tali and neither did Ziva.

Instead they watched their boss's clasped hands, fisting their own firmly at their sides.

**. . .**

"Stay here, sweetheart," Tony said. He placed his other hand on top of Cadence's, which was still laying gently atop his. Her tiny fingers were encased in his own large ones, and he looked at her intently.

_Listen this time. Stay safe. I'll be back._

She stared back with strength that Tony was sure she didn't even realize she had.

_I'll listen. Be careful. You can do this._

And despite the fact that his body throbbed, his hands shook slightly, and Cadence hadn't even said any of that aloud, Tony felt like maybe he could.

He drew his hand reluctantly away and began his slow crawl toward the moaning. One hand in front of the other. One painstaking drag and shift into the next.

He could do this.

Gritted teeth to bite back the groan. Holding your breath for just long enough makes you lightheaded. Eases the pain.

He could do this.

Groaning, right in front of him. Definitely male. The sound was deep and guttural. He wondered if that was how he'd sound if he wasn't gritting his teeth and holding his breath.

Now dig. Metal, concrete chunks, dirt…Tony shoved it all aside. It took what felt like hours.

It was probably only minutes, but who the hell was counting.

Finally, a body. Well, a hand. Almost there. Keep digging.

He could do this.

A whole arm. Part of a chest.

Keep going.

"H-Help…ple..ase…Hel..p…"

Tony quickened his work, and his heart thudded in his chest because through the roughness and haze in the voice, it sounded almost familiar.

One last herculean heave and the man's upper half was free.

Tony could see his face.

There was a pool of blood beneath the head, and everything was covered in grime and bruising and more blood.

"So…sorry...shou-shouldn't have…Jesus, I'm s-sorry…"

Familiarity stung Tony's mind, momentarily paralyzing him.

_"I'm sorry. I know it's frustrating for you, but you've done your part. You've played your roll. Now it's our turn to resolve the situation. We know what we're doing, sir, and we appreciate that you want to help more, but sometimes you just need to sit the bench."_

Tony's stomach rolled with conflicting emotions and coupled with the pain still pulsing through him, he really wanted to throw up.

_"Trust us."_

Famous last words of a would-be hero. The same would-be hero that had played a key factor in the creation of this clusterfuck of a situation. The same would-be hero that Tony respected, hated, and pitied all at once.

"God…are th-they all…d-dead?" the hero asked. Tears were in his voice, though not in his eyes.

Tony stole a backwards glance at Cadence. "No…not all."

He carefully touched his fingers to the man's head. His fingers came away wet and thick with rivulets of blood. His eyes widened in horror as they settled in what he could see of the back of the man's head.

It was virtually crushed. From what Tony could see, there was a large indent, cracked and leaking fluid. Mostly blood, with some other indistinguishable liquids seeping out.

But the blood. Jesus, the sheer volume of it terrified Tony.

And yet the man didn't react at all. His moans were more confused, uncomfortable maybe. Not agonized. Not suffering. It was as if he wasn't in pain at all.

_That can't be good._

"I…d-did this."

_So did I. Should've stopped her sooner._

"Hey, man," Tony said. "What's your name?"

"Jason," the man answered distantly. Guilt washed over his pale features. Wounded eyes begged for forgiveness. "T-This wasn't….Sup-posed to h-happen. God, I d-didn't…mean…for this…"

"It's ok," Tony said. And he really wished he believed it.

"S'not," Jason muttered brokenly.

"I should've done something," Tony said. "I'm a cop. It was my responsibility."

Tony tilted the man's head fractionally, almost gagging. Jason noticed, albeit vaguely. But he seemed to know anyway.

"'M gonna…die…aren't I?"

Tony wished he could disagree.

"No…m-more…than I deserve."

He wanted to disagree, to argue. He wanted to tell the man that he was wrong and he did the right thing and even if it wasn't, it was _ok_.

But Tony only shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Tony breathed. He looked down, something akin to helplessness blazing through his eyes.

"N-Not your fault," the man gasped. "I'm so..rry…This was all…my f-fault…" His eyes squeezed shut and Tony couldn't tell if it was in pain or shame.

Tony closed his eyes as well, breathing deeply to dispel the rush of emotion creeping through the hazel. Because it wasn't this guy's fault. He was trying to do the right thing. Tony thought back to his days before Baltimore. Before Peoria, before Philly. Before any of it. Back before he had training and would've done the same damn thing if he thought it could save people. This guy was just like him, a regular guy trying to do the right thing, trying to help people.

Now he was dying right in front of Tony's eyes, and Tony couldn't help but wonder if he'd soon meet the same fate.

Blood continued to pour from the back of the man's head, a grotesque puddle mixing with the dirty rubble on the ground. Guilt poured out of Tony with equal constancy.

The man coughed lightly, drawing Tony's attention. He shook his head from one side to the other, weak but clear in his gesture. "Not…your fault."

Tony reached down and squeezed the man's shoulder. "Not yours either."

With the words of release, the corner of the man's mouth lifted fractionally before going lax. The hint of relief in his eyes was chased away by darkness and the man fell still.

Hands visibly shaking, Tony dragged his fingertips gently over the man's eyelids. The lines of pain were smooth, giving the appearance of a sleeping man. But he didn't look like that to Tony.

He was dead. Not sleeping, not unconscious. Dead. Tony knew it, and nothing beyond that could make him look alive. Nothing could make Tony see anything but a would-be hero with unseeing eyes that somehow saw right through him. Tony saw a guilt-ridden man. He saw a man who meant nothing but the best, had only the greatest intentions, and just wanted to do something good. Just wanted to save people. He saw a man who'd gone in with nobility in mind, and come out hurting the very people he'd been trying to save.

Tony saw a man who tried to save the world, but lost it instead.

Tony saw himself.

He crawled over to Cadence again, lost in the thoughts and images stabbing their way through his mind.

"Tony?" Cadence's voice was quiet and weak, tinged with a fearful uncertainty that Tony wished he could chase away with a hug or soft words. But she was staring at the would-be hero, eyes wide as saucers.

Tony was at a loss for what to say, and steeled himself for the onslaught of questions. _Is he ok? Is he dead? If he's dead, does that mean we're gonna die, too? Tonyyyyyyy…_

He took a deep breath accompanied by a spike in pain which stole it right back.

He stalled for a few more seconds before he even tried looking at the six-year-old.

Then, her voice came.

"Are you ok?"

_Wait…what?_

He looked up and the sympathy in Cadence's eyes was palpable.

"Yeah," Tony responded automatically. The awe in his eyes seemed to have become a permanent fixture. "Yeah, I'm fine, sweetheart."

He noticed the tenseness in the young girl's shoulders.

"How are _you_ doing?"

Cadence shifted stiffly, broken arm wrapped protectively in front of her chest. "Umm…I don't kn-know really…how to explain it..."

She squeezed a difficult breath through her nose, teeth clenched. It was just then that Tony realized she probably still had most of her baby teeth. So insignificant, yet so important in that moment.

"It's…like…when Benny lays on me s-sometimes."

"Benny?"

"My kitty, B-Benny…He's r-really chubby and sometimes at night…he sneaks into my room…and lays on me…It's all tight…except on the i-inside now…I don't know…"

Tony's brow furrowed as he looked at the girl. "You mean it feels like there's pressure in your chest?"

Another hard breath. "Kinda."

Tony reached over to examine Cadence, hissing when it pulled at his abdomen painfully. He felt the coppery blood before he tasted it, coughing harshly into his palm.

He curled further, doubling over as much as a person on the floor can. Violent throbbing overtook his senses as the stinging sensation travelled from his core up through his chest and into his throat.

A dribble of blood slid over his bottom lip, and Cadence stared, horrified.

After a few moments, Tony regained his breath and swallowed down the remaining liquid in his mouth. He continued as casually as possible, pretending that nothing had happened. He laid his hands, stained and swollen, across Cadence's ribs.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, prodding her gently.

A sharp gasp made him draw his hand away as if it had been burned.

"I'll take that as a yes," Tony said sympathetically.

Cadence didn't respond, and Tony wasn't sure if she wanted her to or not.

"Ok, sweetie, I'm going to prop you up, ok?" His eyes landed a few feet away, where a long section of metal had broken off and landed. It was the perfect size for Cadence to lean up against. "Let me just grab you something."

Cadence was either too weak, too in pain, or a combination of the two to reply.

Tony crawled over and grabbed the chunk of metal. It took more energy than Tony thought it would, and he was slightly ashamed by his body's sudden fatigue.

A small rumble resounded as Tony began dragging the metal chunk back toward Cadence.

He looked up just in time to see a shower of debris raining down on him and Cadence with violent force.

He had just enough time to squeeze his eyes closed and dive for the girl, blind to the world above him, in front of him, and soon enough, around him.

**. . .**

After gathering his thoughts and composing his emotions, Gibbs stood with newfound strength and steeled himself as he walked toward Officer Gordon. As he approached, the man turned to face him.

"We're going in."

Gordon looked almost bored with the repetition. "The building isn't stable yet, Agent Gibbs. You and your people will just have to wait."

"There's at least one other survivor in there, and it's _time_ to get them _out_," Gibbs growled.

"I understand, Agent Gibbs, and the squad is working as hard as they can. They said the building should be stable within 1 to 2 hour-"

"They don't _have_ 1 to 2 hours!" Gibbs shouted, stepping forward, face inches from Gordon's. His tone dropped to dangerous levels, a mere hiss of pure anger and frustration. "I want. My agent. Out of there. _Now_. I don't give a _fuck_ what the squad says."

The man paled visibly, but didn't back down. He stood, staring Gibbs in the face, but didn't speak.

Gibbs's voice dropped a notch. "Do _you_ want to be responsible for their deaths?"

Gordon opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the loud sound of cracking and crashing. Both men's heads shot to the remains of the bank, where the small tower on the roof, which displayed the time and whatever other message the bank wanted to convey, was crumbling.

It appeared to Gibbs in slow motion as it tipped and fell apart, sending chunks of debris crashing through the remaining rubble. The cacophonous sound of material crushing material made him flinch involuntarily.

After a few seconds which felt like a few eternities, the noise settled, and Gibbs turned to see his agents, mouths agape, looks of terror and uncertainty plastered on their faces.

Gibbs turned back to Gordon wordlessly.

John Gordon was not a heartless man by any means. He was a bit hardened to the world and rough around the edges, but anyone who'd worked his job for as long as he had could understand that. At the end of the day, though, he cared about his people. His boss, his team, his coworkers…He'd lost people to the job before, and knew the overwhelming pain and guilt that accompanied such a loss.

So Gordon understood where this Gibbs guy was coming from. And truth be told, the smart-ass agent of his wasn't so bad. The whole team obviously cared greatly about each other. He didn't want to be the one to put that at risk.

With understanding glinting fiercely in his eyes, Gordon swallowed. Then, he looked at Gibbs. "Give them 15 minutes tops."

Gibbs took a moment to consider and looked at the crew, undeterred, now working even faster to find a path into the wreckage.

"Tops," he replied. He began to walk toward Ziva and McGee, turning his back on the destroyed building. He didn't need to see it anyway. The image had already been burned into his mind, leaving the residue of _what could be_ smoldering painfully in his thoughts.

* * *

**Time is running out! So are spaces! For info on securing your place at the Author's Note Fandom Convention, to meet authors such as **_**AlkalineTeegan, Sensue, TeamDiNozzo**_**, and **_**Xenascully**_**, shoot me an email, PM, or (if easier) just request it in a review. It's sure to be a blast, and having all of you there would make it even better!**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: This was the most difficult chapter to write, by far, in so many ways. But a writer must stay true to the characters and true to the story he or she has been inspired to tell, so I hope you all understand. Thank you so much for your support and encouragement thus far; it truly makes the effort worth it.**

**Shout-out to my (amazingly supportive) reviewers:**

_**tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, CeCe Away, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, smush68, julie250, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__**, Jackilee, **__**Caro June**__**, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, **__**DS2010**__**, **__**GreenEyes09**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, Reloader, **__**Emiliana Keladry**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**CindyT63**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, **__**Zoyarose**__**, **__**AnnaMorrison**__**, **__**CherokeeIrish**__**, Kristafied, **__**Deans Addiction**__**, **__**Dragons-Twilight1992**__**, **__**Tonyaddict**__**, **__**SupernaturalfreakisSG-1fan20**__**, **__**Hawkslayer**__**, **_**and the**_** nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewer**_

**And a special thanks to my sounding boards, _Kate_ and _Marianna_. You guys rock like sedimentary.**

* * *

"Boss," McGee said, his eyes pained. "We lost audio."

Gibbs only nodded, glancing ever-so-briefly at the building behind him.

_15 minutes._

He dragged his hand over his face, knowing that 15 minutes was 15 minutes too long.

But also knowing that he didn't have a choice.

**. . .**

Tony tightened his lips together, breathing harshly through his nose, and began to sit up. As he did, he felt chunks of debris and a shower of dust slide roughly off his back. Mercifully, he hadn't lost consciousness, though he was sure to have a hell of a headache to contend with as soon as the adrenaline wore off.

_Cadence_.

He remembered diving for her when he saw the falling debris. He remembered stretching his arms out, willing his body to cover hers before the rubble made contact. He remembered a sharp pain in his arm, a dulled pain in his head, and a stark fear in his heart.

He looked down at his arm, forcing the bile back down his throat at the sight of white bone poking through red flesh. Just a sliver of it. But a sliver was enough to dim the edges of his vision.

Tony let the injured, bleeding arm rest against his stomach as his eyes found Cadence, curled slightly on her side in front of him.

If not for the harshness of her breathing, he wouldn't have known whether she was…_Shut up and worry about the here and now, DiNozzo._

"Cadence?" he said, his voice a pathetic projection of fear.

Her eyes were pinched tightly shut as her breath continued to come out in long, uneven wheezes.

Arms, long and sturdy, strong but gentle in their ministrations, gently turned the girl. She was on her back now, facing him. Cadence's bleary eyes widened a bit at the sight of Tony's arm, and she absentmindedly clutched her own injured limb closely to her chest.

"Hey, sweetheart," Tony said. He slipped his good arm carefully under Cadence's neck and shifted her up, so she was in a sitting position.

"Y-Your…arm," she said.

"Just another paper cut," he responded with a wink. "I figured now we can match." He gestured to her arm.

Tony's attempt at bravado failed, and the only reply was more struggling breaths.

He drew the child to his chest, her back and head leaning against him. His uninjured arm snaked around her, settling on her sternum, feeling the slow and uneven rise and fall of her chest.

"Tonyyyyy."

_Don't. Please, just don't…_

"Yeah?"

He didn't want to look her in the eye, but he had to. He refused to look away.

"Thank you." It was a breath molded into words, too quiet to be even a whisper. "You're…my bestest…friend. For life."

Was it possible for a voice to contain such softness, such genuineness, such _innocence_?

Was it possible for a person to?

"Bestest friend for life, huh? Sounds like a big responsibility. You sure I can do it?" The kidding tone was forced, pained even. But if she noticed, Cadence didn't acknowledge it.

"Already…did," she breathed.

Tony swallowed. "Well that goes for you, too. I guess both of us are bestest friends for life."

A faint smile graced Cadence's lips. It was a far cry from the vibrant, toothy grin Tony had been rewarded all those hours ago, at the beginning of this nightmare, back when men with mistresses and psychos with guns were their biggest concern. Back when Cadence was just another hostage.

_No, that's not right._

Cadence had never been just another hostage.

And this smile, though less vivacious, was just as dazzling. It was understated, childlike, pure. It was so very _Cadence_ that it took his breath away.

After a few moments, the smile faded from Cadence's face and her eyes began to droop. Tony shook her lightly in panic. Her eyes opened into his.

"Just try to stay with me, ok, Cadence? I need you to do that for me. I need you to stay with me, ok?"

She didn't nod.

"It's gonna be ok, sweetie." He didn't know who he was convincing anymore, and quite frankly, couldn't care less.

The brown eyes staring up at him were deep and understanding, only the smallest flicker of fear within them. Tony gently pushed a stray hair from her face, leaving a small streak of red behind.

"Hey," he said. His voice trembled and he didn't care. "I promised, didn't I?"

Cadence nodded blearily. Then, her voice as soft as her long, light brown hair, she whispered, "W-When I…wake up…Will Mommy…be there?"

Tony's heart revolted as his emotions willed it to stop, making every beat sharp and painful. He wasn't even going to pretend that the dust from the debris had anything to do with the moisture forming in his eyes.

Tony looked at Cadence, the pallor of her skin, the blueness of her lips, the acceptance in her eyes.

And he knew.

He didn't want to know, he rebelled against it. But he knew. And there was no going back.

Tony closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, wanting anything but to answer the small child.

Her gaze never left his face, though, and he thought maybe he needed to stop thinking of _him_ and start thinking of _her_.

"Yeah, sweetheart…" His voice didn't crack. It shattered completely. "You'll be with your mommy when you wake up."

"Tony," the voice was more of a breath than a whisper.

Cadence's small hand touched his weakly.

"It's ok."

_No, it's not. It's wrong and contemptible and fucked-up and _not_ ok._

He hardly noticed her pinky until she was wrapping his own around it feebly.

"P-Pinky…promise."

He nodded, and the motion cast a few thick, stray tears out of his rapidly filling eyes.

He didn't let go of her hand as it drifted limply toward the ground. His eyes remained glued to her tiny chest, feeling each rise and fall inflate his own lungs, giving him a reason to stay conscious, stay aware, stay _alive_.

Rise. Fall.

Just a little longer. They just had to hold out for a little longer until help arrived. The team, the police, rescue workers, anyone. Just a little longer…

Rise…Fall…

_That's right, sweetheart, keep it going_. Tony looked at Cadence's pristine face, ignoring the blue of her lips.

Rise….Fall….

The breaths were slowing, but Tony paid no heed to it. It didn't matter. They were getting out, both of them. He'd promised.

Rise…..fall…..

_Just a little bit longer and help will be here. That's all I'm asking for, just a little bit longer, please._

Rise…...fall…...

Tony prayed. Tony squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to a God he didn't even know if he believed in. He didn't care. Faith was relative, and if there was any chance it could save Cadence, he was going to pray. With all his heart, with all his soul, with any thread of faith he had left. He was going to pray. For Cadence. Tony prayed.

Rise…...fall…...

She wasn't dying on him, not now. He'd made a promise. That they would both get out, that help would come. He'd made a pinky fucking promise and he was not breaking it. Not here, not now. _Come on, kid. _His arms tightened around the tiny body.

Rise…

No. Nonononononono. She wasn't going to die because she didn't deserve to, and if there was a shred of hope left for the world, she would keep breathing and keep living and not stop until she'd raised kids of her own, watched her grandchildren grow up, and had time to be happy. If anything inside Tony believed in _anything_ anymore, Cadence would live. Cadence would get out. Cadence would grow up.

He reached down and stroked the softness of her hair. _Goddamnit_, he prayed, choking on the fear in his heart. _Just let her grow up._

He couldn't breathe. He wouldn't.

Fall.

The successive silence struck him in the chest, stealing away his oxygen as he waited for another breath, another rise, another intake…

He waited.

No breath, no rise, no intake greeted him.

Her eyes were still open, darkened, unblinking.

He let the silence shatter his soul.

**. . .**

"Time's up," Gibbs said. "Let's go."

Without a moment's hesitation, Gibbs, Ziva, and McGee were at the opening in the building, a rough chasm in the rubble. The safety team began loading equipment on them: masks, suits, etc. Gordon was letting them go, but not without a proverbial lease.

As soon as the equipment was secured, Gibbs stepped into the building.

"Gibbs," Gordon called after him. Gibbs turned briefly, and Gordon sighed. "Try not to do anything stupid. Just get them out of there."

Gibbs's lips quirked into a small smile. "Will do."

Ziva and McGee stepped through as well, on their boss's six as always. They steeled themselves; Ziva saying a silent prayer, McGee taking a deep breath, and Gibbs narrowing his eyes imperceptibly.

"Hold on, Tony," Gibbs muttered, stepping purposefully through the surrounding wreckage. "We're coming."

**. . .**

She was wearing a white cotton dress when they first met. It hung almost down to her ankles, long and flowing. The ends were frayed, the vibrancy fading. But she liked to play with the material anyway, letting the softened ends slide between her fingers, curling around the tips and knotting at the base.

Tony looked down at the dress now. It was dirty, more tan than white. And it was covered in patches of blood. Her blood. His blood. The blood of any of the innocent people caught in the explosion. Her fingers lay limply at her side, no longer intertwining themselves into the frayed fabric. Her nails were blue if he looked at them for long enough.

She had light brown hair which hung in small waves, tumbling over her shoulders and down her back.

Tony looked at her hair now. It was ragged and dirty, snarled and matted in patches. But it still looked soft.

Shaking fingers reached out and glided through the light brown. It still was.

She had deep brown eyes. The deepest Tony had ever seen. Deep as the ocean, gentle as a breeze. Large enough to fill with emotion beyond her years, small enough to fill with tears for a father she would never see, a mother she would never see again, and a man who was the last person she'd ever have a chance to.

Tony wanted so badly to look away from the darkened brown, but couldn't even bring himself to shut her eyes. He'd much rather shut his own. And he couldn't even find the strength to do that.

_"S-Sir…"_

_"Tony…'Sir' makes me feel old. You can call me Tony."_

_"I'm Cadence."_

_"Pleased to meet you, madam."_

Tony's hands were shaking again. No matter what he did, he couldn't make them stop.

_"How old are you, Cadence?" _

_"Six."_

_"Well, that is far too young to be worrying. You shouldn't do it so much, it takes away from that beautiful smile…I'll take care of things. You don't have to worry about anything at all."_

And Tony knew what a fucking liar he was, but couldn't life for once just be _fair_, and if anything, punish _him_? Why was it that every single thing he did, every single mistake he made, someone else took the fall? It was his turn. He was an adult, he could take it, he _deserved_ it.

She was six. Fucking. _Six_.

_"I didn't want to leave you."_

Flame erupted in Tony's chest, agony fiercer than anything he'd ever experienced.

"Then _why_," he cried angrily, not caring if anyone could hear him or not. _Why did you leave me?_ "Why?" And this time, the cry was so much more broken.

But she'd left him and now he was alone. She'd _left_ him there. He was _alone_…

_"Do you pinky promise?"_

_"Do I pinky promise what?"_

_"That everything is going to be ok."_

He shouldn't have promised. He shouldn't have promised _any_ of the things he had because, damnit, life was uncertain and he _knew_ that.

_"Pinky promise."_

And he had. He had pinky fucking promised something that he could never guarantee, to a girl who now lay silent in his arms.

"Fuck," he gasped brokenly. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" He brought her closer, clutching her desperately to him.

He was broken. He was _shattering_ because she was _gone_ and now there was no one to hold together his broken pieces.

Because he had one reason, one responsibility, one job, and he'd failed. One simple purpose, and she was lying cold in his arms.

Because there was no one left, and he just didn't care anymore.

Because she was _gone_, and it was _his_ fault, and he didn't think he could live with that.

Because he didn't really care if he even lived at all.

Voices distantly registered in his fading mind as the pull of unconsciousness dragged him further and further down.

His arms still clutched Cadence, and no matter what happened, he knew he would never let go.

As he closed his eyes defeatedly and felt the numbness spread through him, he dully realized that he may never wake up.

In the same moment, he realized that he really didn't want to.

And for a reason he didn't care to conceive, he didn't feel guilty for thinking that. In fact, he didn't feel anything at all. He supposed that should worry him, but instead it relieved him.

"M'sorry," he whispered. "M'sorry, sweetheart."

A few more tears fled from his eyes.

"M'sorry, Cadence."

With a final breathed apology, the world turned black around him, and somehow it had nothing to do with his loss of consciousness.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Wow…I cannot thank any of you enough for your support and encouragement for last chapter. It was so difficult to write, and to know that it didn't turn out insincere or crudely executed…It just means the world to me. Every single one of you who is reading this story—thank you. And to those who left such supportive reviews—your comments are what sustain me.**

**This story would not exist without the support of all you wonderful readers and reviewers, so give yourselves credit. And know that I appreciate it more than I could ever express.**

**Shout-out to my (stunningly fantastical!) reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, NickTonyK, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, CeCe Away, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, angeleyes46, smush68, Mulderette, julie250, BnBfanatic, sentarla, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__**, Jackilee, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, **__**DS2010**__**, **__**mamamia1964**__**, **__**GreenEyes09**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**Veryfairygirl14**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, ihearttony, **__**Zoyarose**__**, **__**CSIGeekFan**__**, **__**AnnaMorrison**__**, **__**CherokeeIrish**__**, **__**Hawkslayer**__**, **__**AshleyAficionado**__**, Marianna Morgan, Stephanie2233, taz, **__**Robin Grimm-Goodfellow**__**, **__**rahut83**__**, **__**pottyandweezlbe89**__**, **__**sheln81**__**, **__**Lolenone**__**, **__**Sk8Gr8**__**, **__**angry penguin**__**, **__**FlowerCrazy**__**, Libby, **_**and the**_** 5 nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewers**_

* * *

"Tony! Boss, I see him!" McGee shouted across the wreckage. Taking off the mask over his face, he squinted in the dim lighting, seeing a large, dark figure huddled next to a much, much smaller one.

"Tony!" he yelled again. The figure did not stir.

He rushed forward and landed hard on his knees next to his partner and the small girl curled in his arms.

Gibbs made his way as quickly as possible to kneel opposite McGee.

"Ziva," Gibbs shouted over his shoulder, ripping off his own mask. "Go tell them we have at least two survivors in here."

"One."

Gibbs turned to McGee, whose face was tired and dark and sadder than he'd ever seen from the young agent.

McGee repeated roughly, "One survivor." His fingers fell away from the tiny neck of the girl in Tony's arms.

They both paused for a moment, staring at the picture before them. It was like a recreation of some grotesque piece of art, the way Tony's body hunched so protectively around Cadence's. Even in unconsciousness, he gripped her with a desperation that hung tensely in the air. And the girl's face was so serene. Her eyes were open, distant, as if she was staring behind them all, to another place entirely.

Neither man mentioned the clear tracks tracing themselves through the dirt and grime on Tony's face.

McGee felt a blanket of sadness and loss cover the air all around him. He'd never spoken to the girl, but he'd heard her. He'd seen her for a short while. And she was what? Seven? Six?

Gibbs felt a deep-buried piece of himself ache with a vengeance he thought had faded. The pain was deep and consuming, new, yet so very old.

Both men were unable to look away from the scene, but at the same time felt as if they were witnessing something private, something not meant for their eyes. It was like they'd disrupted a sacred moment and couldn't tear their attention away.

"We need to move her, Tim," Gibbs said, his voice more gentle than McGee had ever heard it before. It shook McGee out of his own head.

"Yes, Boss," he said.

Gibbs began to pull Tony's arms away, but found they were unwilling to release their grip. He tried prying off the fingers, lifting the wrist...nothing worked, and Tony's grip remained tight around the little girl.

Gibbs leaned carefully until his mouth was right beside Tony's ear.

His voice was forceful, deep, and reassuring. It was a meaningful tone which was reserved for very, very few people in Tony's life. It was a tone not freely permitted, but rather earned.

"You can let go, Tony. We've got her now."

The silent _Trust me, Tony_ was palpably present.

"You can let go."

And gradually, he did.

With a gentleness that McGee never knew he possessed, McGee slid one arm carefully beneath the girl's neck, and the other under the crook of her knees. He tensed his muscles, sliding her away from Tony, distantly registering the limpness of his partner's arms as they fell from the tiny body.

Gibbs began putting pressure on Tony's abdomen and trying to rouse the agent.

Meanwhile, McGee continued to stare into the blank eyes of the small girl in his arms. She was lighter than most stacks of paperwork he got after a long case. She was slight, small for her age. Yet in his arms, it felt as if he was carrying the weight of the world.

It suddenly struck him that he was holding a dead child in his arms, and bile rose in his throat. Tony had always teased him about being green, and this was so much worse than anything he'd ever had to see in the field before.

He was holding a cooling, dead, little _girl_ in his arms and he didn't know what to _do_.

_She must've been in kindergarten_, he thought to himself sickly. _Maybe first grade. Still learning to write. Still going to recess. Still just a kid. _He looked at her darkened eyes again.

Gibbs was saying something to him, but he didn't notice as the sudden clarity of _what to do_ lay itself softly in his mind. Extracting his arm from the crook of her knees, he reached out with nimble fingers, gently closing the deep brown eyes.

_Asleep_, he thought. _She looks asleep._ And it made it a little less difficult to breathe.

"McGee!" Gibbs shouted. His eyes were sharp, digging into McGee's, daring him to look away. "You need to take her outside, and then get the EMTs in here."

McGee nodded before slowly rising, Cadence still lying in his arms. He cast a quick, concerned glace at his partner before swiftly making his way out of the ravaged building.

"Come on, DiNozzo," Gibbs muttered, eyes flicking across the face of his fallen agent. "Give me something."

The pale agent gave no indication that he'd heard his boss.

Gibbs maintained pressure on the seeping gunshot wound, scanning the rest of Tony's injuries with worried eyes.

Blood ran across his cheek, a small cut still leaking from Tony's encounter with Marsh's gun. His entire face was mottled with bruises, covered in dust and soot from the debris. Uneven lumps weaved through the short brown hair, evidence of gun butts and collapsing buildings.

One arm hung awkwardly, a sliver of white bone poking through the skin. Gibbs cringed on behalf of his agent as he examined the break. _Sure as hell not a clean one._

His gaze travelled down to Tony's hands, covered in blood, both fresh and dried. It appeared to be mostly from scrapes and lacerations from the debris. The fingers were thick and swollen, looking to be broken or just badly beaten up.

Tony's eyes remained firmly closed.

Gibbs curled his hand into a fist and rubbed his knuckles viciously against Tony's sternum, wordlessly begging for a response.

He got one.

Without warning, Tony's chest lurched and he coughed violently. Gibbs pulled his hand away and moved to prop Tony up. The coughing continued, and with it, blood speckled Tony's pale lips.

Gibbs's arms shook lightly as they supported Tony's weight. Tony's eyes were still closed, but instead of lying limp and unresponsive, he was now shivering, drawing in small gasps between the wet coughs.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs held on tightly to his agent, his composure, and any fraction of hope he had left.

**. . .**

McGee stepped carefully out of the building—or what was left of it. Cadence was still lying in his arms, light as a feather, heavy as the world.

Immediately, he was swarmed by EMTs, police officers, people he'd never seen before. They moved to pull Cadence from his arms.

"NO," he growled fiercely. He jerked all of the arms off him and stepped forward. "There's an agent inside who needs immediate medical attention. The path is clear to get him out and look for other survivors."

A few of the EMTs quickly grabbed a stretcher and some medical equipment, and made their way into the building.

Gordon stepped forward, eyes hopeful as they flicked from the little girl and up to McGee's face. McGee shook his head, cursing the moisture forming in his eyes. Gordon just sighed, a heavy, distraught sound that sounded, to McGee, more painful than any sigh he'd ever heard. The officer motioned to someone McGee couldn't see.

Next thing he knew, a man stepped forward. The man was older, perhaps fifty or sixty. He had kind eyes and slender hands, and was wearing a jacket that read "Coroner" across the front and back. A stretcher was rolled out behind him, with a younger woman standing next to it, but he made no move to pull it toward the agent, which McGee was grateful for. The woman stood behind, obviously following the man's lead.

The coroner sensed McGee's hesitation, his protectiveness, his determination to _never let go_ for anyone or anything.

McGee locked eyes with him as he touched the agent's arm oh-so-lightly, more like the flutter of a moth than the touch of a man.

"We've got her," the man said gently. "And we'll take good of her, I promise."

McGee kept staring, mind and heart being torn in half.

The man spoke again, like he understood everything about McGee and Cadence, and maybe even everyone.

"We've got her."

McGee still didn't respond, but when the older man's arms slid around the girl in place of his own, he didn't protest. He delicately laid her on the stretcher, as a parent would their sleeping child in a bed.

McGee didn't say anything, just watched as they wheeled her out of sight. Another soft touch on his arm startled him. He turned to see Ziva's knowing eyes staring into his.

"Would you like me to call Abby?" she asked. Her voice was that of the frizzy-haired, bright-eyed Ziva from years past. He was torn between smiling and crying.

"No," he said roughly. "I will."

Ziva nodded. "I will see what I can do to help Gibbs."

With that, they parted, McGee pulling out his phone, and Ziva gathering what was left of her faith.

**. . .**

Gibbs had only been with Tony for a few minutes before the EMTs arrived. The senior agent's gasps had become slower, the coughing more frequent. He still hadn't woken, only stirred restlessly at Gibbs's insistent touch.

As soon as they spotted him, the EMTs crashed to their knees, whipping out equipment, running their hands over Tony's body, yelling stats and information at each other. Gibbs stood and moved back a few feet, still close to Tony, but as out of the way as possible. One of the men asked him questions and he answered without taking his eyes off the senior agent.

"Male, early 40s, GSW to the abdomen—through and through, multiple lacerations…compound of fracture of the ulna."

One of them sliced Tony's shirt open and stuck leads to his chest.

"There looks to be blunt trauma to the chest, broken ribs, significant bruising. Coughing blood—internal bleeding."

Ziva was now standing next to him, but he wasn't paying much attention.

"His BP is 56 over 40, and his respiration is dropping."

Gibbs hardly had time to register what was happening before they were lifting Tony onto a stretcher and maneuvering it away.

"Sir!" one of the men shouted. It seemed he had been trying to get Gibbs's attention. "Are you riding with us?"

Gibbs nodded, shuffling to follow the EMTs. He turned to Ziva. "Secure the scene," he ordered. "Then meet us at the hospital."

Ziva nodded in affirmation, but Gibbs was already gone.

**. . .**

"BP's dropping," announced one of the medics. "O2 levels down, too."

Erratic beeping sounded from a monitor to Gibbs's right, and Tony began coughing once again. Grotesque red splotches projected themselves onto the mask over Tony's face. Gibbs watched the red liquid slide beneath the plastic, dripping and gliding. He swallowed, willing the nausea away.

Another monitor blared fiercely, and Gibbs wished it would just shut up.

One of the EMTs grabbed the mask and ripped it off Tony's face, urgently shouting, "He's not getting any more air in, we need to bag him!"

He snatched a balloon-shaped ambu-bag and put it over Tony's nose and mouth, squeezing rhythmically.

It hit Gibbs then that Tony wasn't breathing. That if the medic wasn't pumping that damn bag, Tony would slowly fade away, and just cease to _exist_. He'd go from a living being to an empty body, a treasured friend to a fallen comrade.

Panic ignited in Gibbs's chest and he hoped beyond any adequate comparison that his agent would keep fighting, like he had his whole life. Gibbs knew how unfair and even selfish his request was, but imagining the bullpen with no pranks, the van with no jokes, steak on his couch with no _Tony_…he was having trouble feeling anything but panic.

Gibbs's vaguely registered the blur of action as the medics continued to talk and prod, shouting things, making notes, pressing gauze, adjusting leads…and through it all, the rhythmic pump of air forced Tony's chest up and down. Unconsciously, Gibbs timed his own breaths with the measured ones created by the ambu-bag.

Up…

Down…

Gibbs reached his hand tentatively toward his agent's. He wanted to touch it, hold it, show Tony he was there. He wanted to say that everything was going to be ok and that things would be back to normal in no time and that he knew it hurt, but _everything_ would be _ok_.

Up…

Down…

He pulled his hand away before it made contact.

Because Tony was unconscious—hell, near _death_—and wouldn't know if he was there or not. Because to reassure that everything would be ok would be to admit that it wasn't ok now, and even if that was painfully true, admitting it was something Gibbs just couldn't bring himself to do.

Up…

Down…

Before Gibbs had a chance to rethink his logic, the ambulance was parked and Tony was being rolled out. The medics were all around Tony's gurney, pushing it closer and closer to the hospital doors, farther and farther away from him.

With a calm that he didn't feel, Gibbs stepped out of the ambulance and walked through the doors.

A nurse eyed the blood on his hands and protective suit. Gibbs realized he hadn't taken the outer covering off yet. It was supposed to protect him from the debris and dust from the explosion, but had only served as a resting ground for Tony's blood.

The nurse looked down the hall, past the doors to Trauma, seeing Tony's gurney rushed away, and connected the dots.

"They'll be out with news as soon as possible," she said kindly, and gestured to the row of chairs against the wall.

Gibbs wanted to snap at her that he'd get news when he damn well wanted it…but instead he simply sat down.

Words like _surgery_, _infection_, and _critical_ floated around his head, memories of what the medics had said.

Thoughts like _too late_, _child dead_, and _shouldn't have_ pounded into his skull, musings of newfound self-loathing.

He tried to close his eyes and gather his thoughts, but whenever his lids fell shut, the agonizing image of a motionless little girl assaulted his mind. Whenever he blinked, he saw another person pumping a bag over Tony's face, keeping Tony _alive_ because he couldn't do it himself.

Whenever he breathed, guilt sliced through his chest, ripping his weary heart even further, leaving barely enough to sustain anything but a feeble shadow of the man he could've been.

After what felt like hours, the phone in his pocket went off, interrupting his darkened thoughts.

Gibbs wearily opened the phone and put it to his ear. "Gibbs."

Ziva's voice flooded through. "The scene is secure. Only one other survivor was found, a hostage, Daniel Conrad. He is on his way to the hospital now, no serious injuries. They have vacated the area, and will begin the clean-up tomorrow. The hostages who escaped gave their statements and have been sent home, so there is nothing more for me to do here. I am leaving now, and should be at the hospital within the hour."

Gibbs remained silent until Ziva added quietly, "How is Tony?"

"Been better," he responded. _A lot better._

Ziva heard the underlying worry, and did not care to investigate further. "I will be there soon."

She hung up, and Gibbs followed suit before settling into the chair.

**. . .**

A few hours and a lot of coffee later, Gibbs was still sitting in the same chair, awaiting the assertion that Tony would be fine, hoping that in this case, no news was good news. Ziva had shown up and was seated a few chairs away. Her eyes were distant as her fingers absentmindedly fingered the Star of David around her neck.

"Gibbs?"

Blue eyes reflexively jerked to the voice, slightly startled at the intrusion on his thoughts. "That is what they call me, McGee."

The younger agent said nothing in response, only sat beside his boss.

"Did you call Abby?" Gibbs asked. _And tell her about Cadence? Because she's bound to find out sooner or later._

"Yeah, and she called Ducky and Palmer." _And she was a hysterical mess and I had to drive over to calm her down and we sat for an hour on the floor while she did nothing but cry, until I finally convinced her to talk to Ducky, that she was more use there than at the hospital. She was still crying when I left._

"Good," Gibbs said.

The three sat in silence for a few more minutes, until a doctor came into the waiting room, eyes tired and serious. His scrubs were too clean to have come fresh out of surgery, and Gibbs was torn between anger at not getting news sooner and relief that he didn't have to see any more of his agent's blood stained across the light blue fabric.

Each of them stood up and the man approached.

"Here for Mr. DiN-"

"How is he?" McGee interrupted. Gibbs closed his mouth, having been ready to ask the same thing.

"Critical. But considering his injuries, he's holding his own."

Gibbs hated that phrase.

'Holding his own'…his own _what_ exactly? Life? If so, Gibbs was more afraid than he'd ever been, because the image of a still Cadence burned in his mind, and he wasn't sure if Tony thought living would even be worth it anymore.

The doctor was talking again, so Gibbs quieted his mind to listen.

"…rushed him into emergency surgery to fix the tear. It was larger than we anticipated, but we patched it up as best we could. The bullet wound, while a through-and-through, was already infected, quite severely. He's on a broad spectrum of antibiotics to avoid further infection, but truth be told, it's going to be a long road of recovery, and he's still dancing the edge."

_Sounds like DiNozzo._

"As soon as he's stable enough, he'll also need surgery to repair his arm. We've set it temporarily, but with the severity of the break, surgery will be required as soon as possible."

Gibbs shook the rhythm of _up, down_ out of his head, dreading the answer to what he was about to ask. "In the ambulance, he stopped…Is he…"

The doctor cut off the trailing inquiry. "He's breathing on his own again; we didn't have to intubate him."

McGee and Ziva looked shaken at the thought of Tony _not_ breathing on his own, and Gibbs was grateful that they didn't have to witness it for themselves. He hoped they never would…he hoped that _he_ never would either. Not again.

"And his other injuries?" Gibbs asked. Bruises, cuts, and broken bones danced grotesquely before his eyes.

"Severe, but in and of themselves, not life-threatening. If Mr. DiNo-"

"Tony," Ziva corrected.

The doctor cleared his throat. "If Tony's condition improves, his other injuries should heal as well…But nothing is for certain yet."

_Nothing ever is._

"His body is extremely weak and vulnerable right now…He's unconscious, and will most likely remain so for at least the next 24 hours. Beyond that, things are still indefinite. I'm sorry I can't give you more reassuring news."

Gibbs, Ziva, and McGee stood silently, absorbing the information that their partner, their coworker, their friend wasn't magically healed. He wasn't ok. And no one was sure if he would be.

"Can we see him?" McGee's voice was small and calm.

The doctor nodded. "This way."

They were guided to a small room in the ICU, where Tony lay still and pale on a bed before them. Each of them settled into cramped, old chairs that had been dragged over for their use.

For what felt like a very long time, no one spoke.

"He's gonna be ok," McGee finally said, brow furrowed. There was a pause of uncertainty in his voice. "Right?"

The silence that followed spoke volumes.


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Bonus update! I only call it that because I almost never update this fast…But I'll be gone all this weekend at the **_**Author's Note Fandom Convention**_**, then all next week at basketball camp, then all next weekend at a basketball tournament…So probably no updates for awhile…*is very sorry*…But I didn't want to leave you amazing readers hanging, so I whipped up this tidbit as quickly as I could before I'm away from my computer. I really hope it's ok! Thank you so much for the reviews and support!**

**Shout-out to my (fiercely awesome!) reviewers:**

_**xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, AZGirl, HSMSupernatural, smush68, Mulderette, Jackilee, **__**Caro June**__**, combatcrazy, **__**DS2010**__**, **__**GreenEyes09**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, mbj, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**Veryfairygirl14**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, ihearttony, **__**Zoyarose**__**, **__**CSIGeekFan**__**, **__**AnnaMorrison**__**, **__**Hawkslayer**__**, **__**rahut83**__**, **__**pottyandweezlbe89**__**, Libbydibbs, ocheezy1, **__**rd4rapture**__**, **__**toilmama**__**, **__**Ozzyols**__**, **__**bennydeball**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**Mesonoxian, **__**Khgirl08**__**, **__**tealrose**__**, **__**Pattik, **_**and the**_** 3 nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewers**_

* * *

Tony was awoken by the feeling of a presence beside him. That eerie, not fully awake, heightened sense of awareness, and he just knew there was someone there. Everything around him and inside him was numb, and he couldn't quite remember why.

He raised his heavy lids, and a spike of pain shot through his eyes, into his head. The light, yet persistent beeping in the background sounded like the hum of a herd of buffaloes, deafening in his ears.

_Concussion._

Jumbled memories swam sluggishly through his mind, unclear and vague. He blinked a few times. He remembered the bank. The explosion. Dirt and blood and pain and…

A figure out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. As carefully as he could, he turned his head to the left, narrowing his eyes to focus on the person.

The stature was slight, the posture calm. The figure was clad in a dirty white dress, shocking splotches of blood scattered about the fabric. She was barefoot.

Tony's eyes drifted up, cresting the light brown hair and settling on the tiny, gentle face, which bore a small smile.

"Cadence?" he breathed. The light beeping in the background quickened.

The girl's smile grew as she nodded as if to say _"Of course, silly."_

Tony's heart beat wildly in his chest and he found himself breathless at the sight of the girl. She looked exactly as she had in the bank…Tony couldn't remember much, and what he could remember was muddled and unclear, but he remembered _her_. He remembered her hair and her dress and her smile. For a reason he couldn't recall, seeing her was both relieving and terrifying.

IV bags hug to his right and he assumed that he was on some heavy drugs that were contributing to his slow-working brain. Oh well, remembering couldn't be that important, right? He knew who he was and he knew who _she_ was, and that was enough for him in that moment.

He eyed her arm, and realized something.

"Shouldn't you have a cast on, sweetheart?" he asked. His voice was rough and raw, throat dry as a desert. He swallowed.

Cadence just shrugged.

_Maybe they're doing it later._

He felt as if there was something else he should be saying, but it hurt his head to try to think of it, so he simply lay there, looking at the girl.

Her hair was messy, falling a little into her face. One wisp curled into her lip, which held a bluish tint, and he figured that was just the lighting.

She began fingering the ends of her dress. Tony noticed the clots of blood that stained beneath each of her fingernails, as they had when Tony last saw her. Well, when he last _remembered_ seeing her. Same thing, right?

His thoughts were halted as another familiar figure walked through the door. The silver hair and steely gaze was unmistakable.

"Hey, Boss," Tony croaked. His face flushed slightly at the sound of his voice.

Quickly masking the surprise and relief in his features, Gibbs wordlessly grabbed a cup that was sitting on the table beside Tony's bed, using his other hand to push a button, carefully inclining Tony's bed.

Pressing the cup to Tony's mouth, he said casually, "About time you woke up." He pulled the cup away before Tony could get a good gulp in. "Baby steps, DiNozzo."

"How long?" Tony questioned.

"About a day and a half, give or take."

"How bad?"

Gibbs paused. After a moment, he responded quietly, "Bad."

Behind him, McGee and Ziva came carefully into the room. They stood a few feet back, behind Gibbs. Tony thought it was rude that none of them said hello to Cadence, but then he realized she had probably been there for a few hours. They probably all had already. Plenty of time to acquaint themselves. They stood cautiously, as if on eggshells, even Ziva. It was a bit annoying.

"Geez, guys," Tony said, happy that his voice wasn't as much a croak, and significantly less scratchy. "You're allowed to come closer if you want you. You'd think I had the plague or something."

They looked nervous, but both rolled their eyes exaggeratedly. Tony gave a small laugh, which turned into a harsh cough.

"Would you like us to get a doctor?" Ziva asked.

Gibbs shook his head. "Not yet. Give him a chance to catch up with himself."

Tony knew that was code for, _I'll give you five minutes before I bring the doc in_.

Tony looked to fill the awkward silence. "Guess that's the last time you let me go under cover, right, Boss?"

"Tony," Gibbs said wearily. _Don't do this to yourself._

"I royally messed this one up, even for me." Gibbs and the rest of the team looked very sad, and Tony almost felt guilty for mentioning anything. "Just sayin', Boss."

"Just disagreeing, DiNozzo," Gibbs responded.

Silence followed the words, until Gibbs spoke.

"There was one other survivor," he offered warily.

_Well, obviously…_ Tony was a bit confused as to why Gibbs was talking about Cadence without acknowledging her.

"He was only admitted overnight for a minor concussion and some scrapes from the rubble. Got released yesterday afternoon."

"Wait…_he_?"

Gibbs replied, slightly confused. "Yeah, unless Daniel Conrad is an alias."

"What do you mean, he was the _only_ other survivor?"

Gibbs's eyes narrowed, unsure of how to respond. Tony raised his eyebrows in obvious frustration.

"_Cadence_," he said demonstratively, tilting his head toward the girl beside his bed.

"Tony," Gibbs said carefully, eyes narrowed at his agent. He was clear but gentle with his tone. "Cadence is dead."

Cadence.

Dead.

With crushing force, images flashed before him, lighting his mind. His fingers twitched involuntarily as they recalled the soft caress of cold skin.

Cadence.

Dead.

Memories replayed painfully in his mind. The agony of loss, that haze and impossible hope had temporarily eased, crept back into his heart and he felt empty and cold.

_Cadence?_

He looked at the dirty dress, messy hair, and blue lips, and suddenly, Tony couldn't breathe. His chest tightened and a tearing sensation ripped straight through him, which he knew had nothing to do with the stitches. Panic flooded his system as his lungs fought to remember how to move. His heart thudded hard, which was strange because in that moment, he was sure it was too broken to work.

Tony could feel his body start to tremble, and fought to keep any form of composure. But Gibbs was standing there telling him Cadence was dead which had to be true because he'd _seen_ her die, but Cadence was standing right fucking _there_ in the same white dress, with the same chocolate eyes and the tiniest smile and what the _fuck_ was going on?

"Dead?" Tony repeated numbly.

Gibbs nodded, casting a concerned glance at McGee and Ziva. Tony didn't even notice.

"Yeah, Tony. She's gone."

Tony looked directly at the girl next to his bed. She just shrugged, undaunted by the revelation.

_No. She's not._

Cadence grabbed the end of her dress, fingers twirling in the frayed fabric. And all of the sudden, the bluish shadow on her lips was less of a shadow and more a deathly, dark hue, deep within her skin. Her skin was paler than normal. Too pale.

_She's not._

Cadence twirled on, and even her fingertips were shaded blue.

_But she is._

"Ok."

_Breathe. Don't freak out, and more importantly, don't freak _them_ out._

"Ok?" Gibbs asked. He looked halfway between concerned and hurt by the response.

Tony's eyes flicked sideways to Cadence, who said nothing, just settled herself on his bed. She had her legs crossed as if listening to story time in a classroom. When Tony's eyes met hers, she smiled. _Goddamnit, that smile…_

"Yeah. Ok," Tony said roughly. He had no idea what was up, what was down, who was real, what was happening. "I'm pretty tired, Boss. Think I'll sleep if you don't mind."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes curiously, but knew his agent wasn't ready for a full interrogation yet—probably never would be. He nodded once before adding, "Ok, we'll fill you in when you feel up to it. We should probably get to Abby anyway. She's bound to be bouncing off the walls by now."

Tony nodded jerkily. No "Tell her she shouldn't worry so much" or "Give her a hug for me". No acknowledging grin or nod of agreement.

Nothing.

He just lay there, looking small and lost.

With a few concerned looks, Gibbs and the team left.

Cadence didn't.

**. . .**

With a muttered, "I will meet you downstairs," Ziva excused herself to the restroom, leaving McGee and Gibbs alone on their walk to the elevator.

"Boss-" McGee began worriedly.

"He just woke up, McGee," Gibbs interrupted nonchalantly, easily suppressing his own uncertainty. "Give him some time to get his bearings back."

McGee closed his mouth, sparing a glance back at Tony's room before continuing on with his boss.

Neither man spoke on the elevator ride down.

**. . .**

Tony said nothing to the girl on his bed. He just lay on the stiff hospital mattress and watched her. She was sitting casually, still playing with the end of her dress. At first she hummed a tuneless melody, then sat quietly before him. After a while, she raised her head and began looking at him. There was still a streak of red from when Tony had gently swept a strand of hair off her face. He hadn't noticed it before, too caught up in the happiness of seeing her, the joy of thinking she was ok.

But she wasn't.

Not by a long shot.

"_Why won't you talk to me, Tony?"_

The voice startled him. It was her voice. It was small and sweet and gentle and firm, and a million other things all at once.

"_Are you mad at me?"_

Tony could only shake his head, eyes troubled, voice unwilling to be put to use.

"_Then why?"_

Tony opened his mouth to speak because her eyes suddenly looked so sad and lost and he _never_ wanted her to feel that way. But no sound came out.

She sighed. _"I'll go away for now."_

It took Tony a moment to register that comment, and when he did, desperation gripped him tightly. She couldn't go. He didn't even know what she was, but she couldn't go. He had to keep her there, keep her with him.

Whether it was the drugs or the weakness and vulnerability, something sent a wave of emotion through Tony, and his hand shot out to Cadence's, which lay softly on the bed.

It wasn't as cold and deathly as he'd imagined it would be. It was light and small and even a little warm. The tiny fingers twitched gently against his hand.

His hand, which had momentarily stopped shaking, trapped hers beneath, afraid to release its grip.

"_Tony, let go,"_ Cadence said. Her tone wasn't threatening or upset. It was quiet and meaningful, just as it had always been.

Tony felt all of eight years old as his wide eyes stared at her, moist and vulnerable.

"I can't."

Cadence smiled, a soft, understanding expression that could melt a man's heart.

That could break a man's heart.

"_I'll be back,"_ she said. _"You should get some sleep. My mommy and daddy say it's not good to stay up late. You should sleep. Don't worry, I'll be back."_

She smiled once more, and then was gone. She didn't fade out or wisp away in a cool breeze. Tony just looked at her, and then realized he wasn't looking at her anymore.

She had said she'd be back, and for some reason, it brought Tony a strange sense of peace. But reality loomed darkly in his mind, whispering evil words like _dead_ and _six_ and _your fault_.

As per usual, the dark whispers won out, weighing down the light with shadows.

_Dead._

_Six._

_Your fault._

But she was there. Not really, but sort of. Almost.

Or maybe he was just more fucked-up than he thought.

Tony curled on his side, staring blankly at the wall before him. He dimly wondered which was more broken—his body or his spirit.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: It's been far too long, and I'm sorry…I hope people aren't so upset by the long wait that they've stopped reading…But the good news is that the **_**Author's Note Fandom Convention**_** went superbly well, and was a huge success! There will be another next year, so I hope to see some new faces (and many returning faces!) then! Humongous props to **_**Xenascully**_** for being fantastic enough to pull it all off!**

**Also, thank you to anyone who voted for Cadence in the convention awards; I'm honored and humbled that it won Best Drama!NCIS against the other incredible stories it was amongst. It's still a bit unreal to me, but means so much!**

**Big thanks to **_**Sarahsrr**_** to getting me going and jump-starting my muse! Couldn't have finished this chap without you, Sarah, thank you!**

**And also, special thank you to **_**Deans Addiction**_** for the wonderful scene idea, which I inserted into this chapter. Hope I did your great idea justice!**

**Shout-out to my (incredibly super-tacular!) reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, Madances, mamapranayama, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, AZGirl, Tango Eight, HSMSupernatural, smush68, julie250, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__**, Jackilee, **__**Caro June**__**, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, sarahsrr, **__**DS2010**__**, **__**mamamia1964**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**olympianchef213**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**Veryfairygirl14**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, **__**Zoyarose**__**, **__**AnnaMorrison**__**, **__**Deans Addiction**__**, **__**Hawkslayer**__**, **__**rahut83**__**, **__**pottyandweezlbe89**__**, **__**FlowerCrazy**__**, **__**toilmama**__**, **__**Ozzyols**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**Mesonoxian, **__**tealrose**__**, **__**murraysmom**__**, whynotlive, **__**reena01**__**, **__**Wolfa Moon**__**, **__**BrandSpankingNew**__**, **__**Goddess-of-Genius**__**, **_**and**_** Anononon**_

* * *

"_Tony, wake up."_

Tony's eyes shot open at the sound of the small voice, and he sat up. He got halfway there before pain shot through his core, alerting him of the drugs that had obviously worn off. He collapsed back onto the pillow, breathing hard through his nose.

The tiniest toothy grin greeted his vision as his eyes opened into slits.

"_Sleepyhead."_

Cadence giggled, and Tony prayed that he'd wake up soon.

"_You're funny when you sleep."_

He didn't.

Cadence was sitting on the bed, hanging her feet off the edge, and grinning at him. She looked like a kid who'd jumped on her parents' bed on Christmas morning, waiting for them to awaken, so excited when they finally did.

He tried once again to push himself up, but found his right arm held tightly to his chest with a sling-like wrap. It explained some of the extra weight on his chest.

Some of it.

A deep throb pulsed through his wrapped arm, and Tony gritted his teeth.

"_The doctor came in when you were sleeping. The silver-haired man sent him. He said something about surgery for your arm…does it hurt bad?" _Cadence asked.

Feeling the throb subside, Tony shrugged heavily. "Not as bad as some things."

"_Like paper cuts?"_ Cadence said with a giggle.

Tony's lip twitched, but he didn't say anything in response. The two were silent for what felt like an eternity, and with each passing moment, Tony felt heavier and heavier, his stiffening limbs and injured body making itself known.

Tony stared at Cadence, something he'd been doing more than he should. But he couldn't look away. He had to know. He had to _see_.

"Cadence," Tony said cautiously. "Do you know where you are?"

A light laugh accompanied the drip-drop of her honey-sweet voice. _"We're at the hospital, _duh_."_

Tony almost smiled.

Almost.

He hesitated for a moment, watching Cadence as she ran her fingers around a long strand of hair. Her bare feet still dangled off the side of the bed, and it was almost as if the stains of blood and dirt weren't even there.

Almost.

"Cadence," Tony said again.

Cadence looked up. The knowing innocence that bled through her eyes punched the air from Tony's lungs. He couldn't tell if the pain in his chest was from broken ribs or something else.

He took a breath and ignored the twinge.

"Do you know _why_ you're here?"

There was a slight pause in response, and Cadence pinched her lips together, fair brow furrowed in thought.

Anticipation inched its way through Tony's lungs, freezing his breath as he waited for an answer.

"_My daddy's a doctor…Did I ever tell you that?"_

Tony shook his head wordlessly.

"_He makes people better when they're sick or hurt…I don't think I'd ever wanna do that, though because sometimes people are hurt really bad. Sometimes they get so sick that even my daddy can't make them better."_

"That doesn't answer my question," Tony interjected gently.

Cadence continued as if Tony hadn't spoken.

"_But I asked my daddy about it once, and he said that even though it was sad, it was ok because everything happens-"_

"-for a reason?" Tony said sarcastically.

Cadence frowned and cocked her head at him. He swam momentarily in the brown depths.

"_The way it's supposed to."_

Tony didn't know what the proper reply was, other than _He was wrong, and I bet if you asked your daddy that now, he'd agree._

But, real or not, Cadence was still six (_she'd always be six, forever because he couldn't protect her like he promised he would_), and that just didn't seem like the appropriate response.

Cadence held her gaze steady on his face.

"_Everything happens the way it's supposed to. He told me that even when it was very, very sad, he had to keep doing his job because when something like that happens, it's so easy to forget that good things happen, too."_

And Tony couldn't deny that Cadence's daddy might be right, but that didn't do a goddamn thing for any of them, and he really didn't want to hear it.

Cadence seemed to sense this, and dropped the topic.

"_What about your daddy? The one who used to tell you not to be scared. Is he a doctor?"_

"No," Tony said, tasting the irony on his bitter, dry lips. "Healing people isn't really his thing."

_Not that I really know him well enough to tell._

He coughed a small, rough hack, and suddenly craved a glass of water. There was a half empty (_half full?_ Somehow, it didn't occur to him that way) glass on the small bedside table to his left. But if the constant throb of his arm, chest, abdomen, and—hell, _everywhere_—was any indication, movement on his part was out of the question.

_But damn, I'm thirsty._

He shifted slightly to his left, holding his breath against the uncomfortable tingle running through his body.

"_Tony,"_ Cadence said, and her eyes were wide and worried. _"Be careful."_

"Always am," Tony automatically replied, then cringed at the blatant lie. But he turned again regardless, rolling his body as gently as possible to the side. A dull fire licked at the edges of his core, but he pushed it aside. Or maybe he welcomed it.

Either way, it didn't really bother him.

As he settled on his side, ready to reach out and grab the glass, déjà vu struck hard and fast, leaving a gaping hollow of pain and self-loathing burning into his mind, recalling the dark reflections he'd made only hours before.

Dead.

Six.

Your fault.

_I know._

"Y'know, I don't think lying on your side like that is helping the healing process much."

The voice startled him more than it should have. Gibbs continued walking through the doorway.

"Thirsty," he muttered, and cursed how pathetic he sounded.

"Could've asked, DiNozzo."

Tony attempted to shrug, but found it painfully impossible.

Gibbs reached over to grab the glass of water, then settled back into the chair to the right of the bed.

"That position can't be very comfortable."

Tony found it laughable how little he cared. But damn, he was _thirsty_.

He began to roll his body over again, pinching his eyes shut when a dagger of pain shot through his midsection. After a few seconds, the moment of pain passed.

Gibbs reached over and tipped the glass carefully into Tony's lax mouth. He sucked in the liquid greedily.

"The doc is gonna be pretty pissed if you undo all his handiwork before he gets a real good look at ya," Gibbs said.

Tony made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat.

"_That was kinda rude,"_ Cadence said. _"He's just being nice to you, Tony."_

Tony was afraid to respond to either of them, for fear of feeling even more lost than he already did. He tried to take a deep breath, but it pinched his chest uncomfortably.

"Those drugs wear off yet?" Of course Gibbs noticed.

"M'fine," Tony murmured. He shot a brief glance at Cadence, who was looking at him with a mixture of concern and reproach. He quickly looked away.

Because maybe if he didn't look at Cadence or Gibbs, it would all somehow be less confusing and more ok.

Damn, he was thirsty.

"Ready for more?" Gibbs asked.

Tony wasn't sure if he nodded, but the glass was pressed to his mouth once more.

"I think that's enough for now," Gibbs said, pulling the water away and setting it down. He scrutinized his agent.

"The doc came in earlier, took a look at you while you were sleeping. He said if you stay stable for a few more hours, they can take you back into surgery to get your arm fixed up."

Tony said nothing.

"A few weeks recovery time on that, along with some good old PT to whip you into shape. But we won't be rushing you back into the field for awhile, considering your other bumps and bruises." _Gunshot wound, broken ribs, concussion, busted-up face, countless lacerations, a torn liver, and we weren't sure if you were gonna make it. _

Still, Tony remained silent.

"Well," Gibbs said, and the word itself was a sigh. "I'm not much for small talk either, but if this is gonna be the rest of the day, I think I'll get some coffee."

He stood up from the chair, readying himself to leave, but before he got the chance, a weak, yet firm grip clasped around his wrist.

Startled, he stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze shooting to Tony, who—to his surprise—was no longer looking away.

In fact, the senior agent was looking straight at him.

And Gibbs was starting to think that it was easier when the man was avoiding his gaze.

Because_ I'm scared_, _please stay_, and _I don't want to be alone_ were all packed into one set of panicked hazel eyes, and for the life of him, Gibbs couldn't bring himself to leave. For a moment, he just stared, unsure of what he should do next.

Tony quickly withdrew, as if shocked by his own lack of restraint. He opened his mouth, but no words of explanation came out, only emptiness, embarrassment, and pain, all of which he was far too familiar with.

Because while Gibbs saw_ I'm scared_, _please stay_, and _I don't want to be alone_, Tony also felt _you're real, I need someone real_ and _without you here, I feel even more lost_.

But he never wanted to show that, and was mortified that he even marginally had.

Somehow, it didn't surprise him when Gibbs sat back down as if nothing had happened. He took Tony's glass and sipped from it, not missing a beat. Tony grabbed the life raft of _it never happened if you didn't want it to_ and said nothing.

"That survivor that I mentioned earlier, Daniel Conrad…he said he'd like to see you, as soon as you're feeling up to it."

The comment sifted through Tony and his voice was serious when he spoke. "Is Cadence's father a doctor?"

The question was sudden, but if Gibbs was thrown, he didn't show it.

"Yes."

Cadence shot him a look of _I told you so_, but Tony ignored it entirely.

"Has he been told?"

Gibbs paused before answering quietly. "Yes."

Tony nodded in understanding. His eyes carefully avoided the girl still sitting on his bed.

"Y'know, Tony…I think-"

"I'm pretty tired, Boss. Think I'll get some rest if you don't mind."

Tony wasn't looking at Gibbs, and therefore didn't see the flicker of sadness settle into the icy blue eyes.

"Ok," Gibbs said. "Just not for too long, DiNozzo. I'm sure at some point, the docs would actually like to see you conscious. Otherwise, they're gonna start thinking I'm making things up."

When silence met his words, Gibbs pretended he wasn't expecting a _"Gotchya, Boss."_

He didn't bother asking if he should stay, because he knew what Tony's response would be, and he was staying regardless.

Cadence didn't ask either, but it was doubtful that it would've mattered anyway. She stayed seated on the left side of his bed, feet dangling.

And Tony marveled at how, even when flanked with a person on each side, he still managed to feel so overwhelmingly alone.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Thank you all so much for the patience and support. It's extraordinarily appreciated, and I really hope you all know how much it means to me!**

**Shout-out to my reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, tiffaroolou, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, kookykey, Art Is The Weapon, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, CeCe Away, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, Tango Eight, smush68, julie250, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__**, Jackilee, combatcrazy, sarahsrr, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**Emiliana Keladry**__**, **__**olympianchef213**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**Veryfairygirl14**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, **__**Deans Addiction**__**, **__**rahut83**_, _**FlowerCrazy**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**Mesonoxian, **__**tealrose**__**, **__**whynotlive, **__**Goddess-of-Genius**__**, **__** 2kii10**_, _**Nancy, Angie, **_**and the**_** nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewer**_

* * *

"You wanna watch a movie?" Abby asked. She was seated in the chair beside Tony's bed, as close to him as possible without interfering with any equipment or aggravating any of his injuries.

Cadence sat on his other side, but Tony hardly noticed. Her presence, while difficult to wrap his mind around, impossible to understand, was gradually becoming familiar. It had only been a few days, and Tony still felt ripping guilt tear up his chest when he looked at her and took a moment to think. But he found that he didn't want her to leave.

"Tony?" Abby questioned, bringing his eyes back to her face.

"Sorry, Abs," Tony recovered. "I don't think I'm in the mood."

Tony was stuck in a hospital bed, awaiting the final preparation and scheduling of arm surgery.

The rest of the team were on their way to a funeral.

And though he had made some large strides considering the miniscule amount of time he'd actually been in the hospital, and was getting more practiced at sitting up—even almost standing (albeit with much assistance)—there was no way the doctor would clear him to leave the hospital, and Tony doubted he'd ever be able to muster up the strength to anyway.

He hadn't fought it, not at all. When Gibbs had said he was taking McGee and Ziva, and that Abby would sit with him while they were gone, he'd said ok and fell silent again.

"We'll be back in time to see you off to surgery," McGee had said. And Tony had given a tiny smile and nodded his appreciation, even though deep down, it didn't make that much of a difference.

And now, Abby was sitting there, trying to connect with him and he found it so much harder to do than it had been in the past. The room was silent for a few moments, until Abby spoke up again.

"Want to get some fresh air?"

Tony looked at her curiously.

Holding up a finger, she scurried out the door and returned not a minute later with a modest black wheelchair rolling in front of her.

"No way," Tony said.

"It's this or spending the afternoon in that bed," she shot back. A devilish grin snuck out of her stern face.

Tony grumbled, which made Abby smile wider.

Before he knew it, a nurse was in the room, flipping his covers and elevating the bed. He submitted to her ministrations, mostly because he didn't have the energy or will to resist.

"The doctor isn't happy about this," the nurse huffed. "But _she_ insisted." The woman gestured toward Abby, who ignored the comment. "You need to keep your arm in the sling and under no circumstances are you to leave the wheelchair. Considering you're still technically in the ICU, you really shouldn't even be out of bed-" Another pointed look in Abby's direction. "-but as long as you're as cautious as possible, it shouldn't affect anything. Your surgery is still scheduled for this afternoon."

Tony sighed, glancing at his arm. It was still strapped to his chest by the sling, which hid the damage that was awaiting surgery to be repaired. The longer he looked at it, the more it throbbed, so he looked back at the nurse.

"Ready?" she asked, positioning herself at Tony's side. Abby hurried to his other side.

Tony nodded, sighing slightly.

After a few painstaking minutes, Tony was firmly planted in the wheelchair. He found himself out-of-breath; strange considering he'd done almost no work at all. But recalling his hefty list of injuries, he thought maybe it wasn't so strange after all.

**. . .**

A few short minutes later, Abby and Tony were seated in the small area outside the hospital, a small fountain in front of them, dancing water glinting in the sunlight.

"We were all worried about you, you know," Abby said casually. She was sitting on the end of a bench, the wheelchair parked just beside her, close enough that she could snake her arm around his broad shoulder if need be. At the moment, she sat still, hands in her own lap. "Even Gibbs."

Tony gave a small "Yeah", and fell silent.

"You should've heard him," Abby continued, perfectly willing to fill the quiet air. "He talked about everything and anything. Never heard him speak that much at once in my entire life. He talked about the team, the job, the bank…"

Abby paused nervously.

"…he even talked a bit about Cadence."

Tony turned toward Abby.

"Nothing much, just the stuff he knew, about the statement he had to write and when he had to talk to her father-"

"Her father?" Tony interrupted.

"Yeah," Abby said.

"Did he mention that he was a doctor?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah, Gibbs said that he offered to help with your case, but I guess his heart wasn't in it. He's not ready yet."

"_I already told you he was a doctor,"_ Cadence said.

_But who knows if it was really you_, Tony thought. All of the sudden, he was even more confused when he looked at the small girl.

"Why do you ask?" Abby questioned.

"I don't know," Tony replied.

And he really didn't.

Abby let Tony be silent for a few moments before asking quietly, "Do you wish you were going?"

Neither had to specify what she was talking about, and both of them knew that only _she_ could get away with asking something like that.

"I don't think so," he responded truthfully. His eyes shifted to a place far away. "I mean, how can I watch them bury her when she's still here, ya know?"

Abby slipped her hand into his. "What do you mean?"

Still far away, Tony replied, "There was something about her, Abs. Something that sticks with you." He gave a small, sad smile. "You would've loved her."

"I bet you're right," Abby responded. She stroked his hand softly, without thinking, and for a brief moment, Tony expected to look over and see Cadence's face staring back at him.

"She had this smile…I swear, it could light up a room. Didn't even matter what was happening at the time. It was like…" Tony trailed off, unsure of what to say. He looked to his right and wasn't entirely surprised to see Cadence standing there.

"Like what?" Abby encouraged gently.

"Like that moment when the clouds pass overhead, but then the sun breaks through and everything is lit up and golden and… really beautiful." Tears pooled in his eyes, but he blinked them away. "She just made everything…beautiful, ya know? Even the stuff that shouldn't have been. She made it ok."

Tony wasn't looking at Abby, so he didn't see the tears welling in her bright eyes.

"And she's so beautiful, Abs. Tiny, like a porcelain doll. With this long brown hair and…and her eyes. They're this deep brown, kinda like Ziva's, but different. Not as dark. She has a way of looking at you, though, like she's really _looking_ at you."

"Had," Abby said, gentle and quiet as a breeze.

"What?"

"You said _has_."

"Oh," Tony said. His eyes were far away again.

A moment of silence.

"Have you ever broken a pinky-promise, Abs?"

Abby would've laughed had Tony's eyes and voice not been so full of sadness and guilt and more that she didn't understand. But they were, so she didn't.

"I don't know," she replied. "Can't remember all of them."

Tony didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then, quietly, "I think I'm ready to go back inside now."

Abby forced a small smile. "Ok."

Taking off the breaks off, she got up and pushed the wheelchair toward the entrance. They silently made their way forward, Cadence keeping gentle stride beside Tony.

**. . .**

As Tony and Abby rounded the corner, they saw the figure of a woman tentatively stepping into the doorway of Tony's room.

"_Who is she?"_ Cadence asked still standing beside the wheelchair.

Tony narrowed his eyes and mouthed 'I don't know.'

"Who are you?" Abby asked. Her tone was blunt and lacked any politeness that she might typically use.

The woman spun around, clearly startled, and opened her mouth to speak. It took her a few seconds to form words, and when she did, her voice was stuttered and nervous, as if she was unsure of whether to talk or run.

"H-Hello. I'm sorry, they told me Tony DiNozzo was in this room, but I didn't see anyone. I was just going to go in and…and see if he…if he had a moment…"

There was something familiar about…something. But Tony couldn't put his finger on exactly what. Cadence looked at him. _"Do you know her?"_

Tony breathed too quietly for anyone but Cadence to hear, "I don't think so."

Abby let the woman trail off. When she was finished, Abby put her hands on her hips, repeating, "Yeah, ok, so _who are you_?"

"I-I'm sorry, you don't know me…my husband…" She paused, swallowing thickly, and when she spoke again, her voice was sad and cracked. "My husband, Jason…I mean, I don't know if you remember, or…"

Tony blinked stupidly. _Jason…Jason…who-_

"I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry. You're obviously still recovering, and it was stupid of me to…I just didn't know who else to talk to. I'm sorry."

The woman began to turn, when suddenly, Tony connected the familiarity.

_"I'm sorry. I know it's frustrating for you…"_

"_So…sorry...shou-shouldn't have…Jesus, I'm s-sorry…"_

Jason.

The would-be hero.

"Wait," Tony said. Abby looked at him strangely. So did Cadence. "I'm sorry, with the medication I'm not as with it as I normally am. What was it you needed to talk to me about?"

The woman turned around, and Tony noticed the uncomfortable look she shot Abby. "I, uh, I just-"

"Abby," Tony interrupted the woman, saving her the discomfort. "Why don't you grab some Caf-Pow. We'll be fine in here for a few minutes."

Abby was hesitant, speaking without words. _Are you sure you'll be ok?_

Tony nodded slightly. _Yeah._

Cadence didn't move from his side, and he didn't expect her to.

Abby pushed Tony into the room before exiting. Just before she left, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I'll be back in five minutes," she whispered.

And then they were alone. Just Tony, the woman, and Cadence.

"So," the woman began. "How are you doing? I heard you were badly hurt." She looked at all of Tony's wires and bandages with sympathy.

"I'm doing ok," Tony replied. "But that's not what you came here to talk about."

"Straight to the point, I see…that's how Jason has always been…was…" Her voice faltered. "I just…I was told that you were in the bank when it—when everything happened. And that you communicated with Jason. I don't really understand everything that happened, but…"

"_She's very sad,"_ Cadence said, watching the woman struggle for words.

Tony nodded, waiting for her to regain her voice.

"My husband. He…" the woman took a moment to sniff up the tears pooling in her eyes. "They said he triggered the explosion. That he tried to stop this Marsh woman, but set something off…I don't…I don't know what to think. Is it true? Did he set off the explosion that killed all those people?" Her eyes were wide, begging for honesty, pleading for an answer. She wanted validation, and Tony wasn't sure if he was qualified to give it.

But after a moment of thought, he did.

"Your husband was a hero," he said. "That's all there is to it."

"_Tell her she shouldn't worry_," Cadence added.

The woman was still looking at him with pleading eyes and he wished she'd stop.

_Pained eyes begged for forgiveness. "T-This wasn't….Sup-posed to h-happen. God, I d-didn't…mean…for this…"_

"He was a hero," Tony repeated. Then, more gently, "Don't worry about the rest. None of it matters."

"_N-Not your fault," the man gasped._

"A hero?" the woman asked cautiously, as if daring herself to hope.

"_N-Not your fault."_

Tony swallowed and nodded.

"A hero."

Cadence held his hand and looked at him in a way that clearly said _Good job. I'm proud of you._

And for the first time in awhile, Tony felt a little bit proud of himself.

"Thank you," the woman said. She looked at him for a moment, very carefully, but didn't speak. Neither did Tony.

She gathered herself, and made her way to the door. Just before she left, she turned around and locked eyes meaningfully with Tony.

"I'll pray for you," she said.

Tony said nothing, but the woman was gone anyway.

**. . .**

Abby walked in a minute or so later, Caf-Pow in hand.

"Do you want to get a nurse and hop back in bed or stay in the chair for a bit longer?"

"Chair," Tony replied. It was nice to be sitting up; it helped him feel a little less like an invalid. Not much felt nice anymore, but that did.

Abby settled herself on the bed, and the next few minutes passed by in silence. Even Cadence didn't speak.

Next thing they knew, Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva were striding through the door.

"Hey, Tony," McGee greeted. He had the evidence of tears in the slight puffiness around his eyes.

"Hello, Tony." Ziva had the same in the small smear of makeup around the edges of her eyelids.

"Hey, guys," Tony replied, pausing carefully. His voice was painfully quiet, like the shadow of a mouse. "How was it?" He put up a small barrier between his emotions and what he was about to hear.

Gibbs remained silent, but the other two spoke. Abby held his hand and listened along with him as Ziva and McGee began talking about the service. About the funeral.

Funerals.

Such a foreign thought.

They didn't go to funerals.

Not for their partners, not for their bosses. Not for their lovers, not for their friends.

Funerals were closure, goodbye, grief, endings. Funerals brought sadness and loss, but also the all-consuming satisfaction of letting go. That feeling that swelled in your chest and built itself into a crescendo of memories until something inside froze and cracked. Out of the fissure poured everything you'd been holding inside, everything you'd been brave enough to show. All of it came cascading out into the public eye, and even though the vulnerability was acute, it didn't matter.

You were getting your closure, and in that moment, the rest of the world could go to hell.

But they didn't get that. Not ever. They didn't go to funerals. People died; they grieved, they brooded, they carried around the pain, they moved on.

Not from the pain, as it may seem, but just from the event.

So easily people make that mistake.

Tony could think back to many people he'd known who had left him through death. And he could only recall the funerals of the most miniscule fraction of them. Because Tony didn't go to funerals. None of them did.

They held in the regret and sadness. They swallowed the pain and loss. They moved on.

They let the memories build up in their chest until it was ready to burst. But it never did, because they couldn't afford to let that happen. The crescendo was held in suspension, the pressure never ceasing.

It stayed there forever. Because they didn't want to feel that satisfaction or relief. Because they were never ready to say goodbye. Because they didn't _want_ to let go.

Because, with the exception of a very few, they didn't go to funerals.

Until now.

Cadence's funeral was held outdoors, in a quaint cemetery with trees and flowers and a pretty little gravestone right next to a bigger one. The two stones were glossy and clean, simple, but beautiful. The weather was balmy and clear, the sun shining down as if God himself had opened the sky for the occasion. The minister spoke for most of the time, and said some very nice things about Cadence and her mother, about how loyal the Mrs. was to the church, and what joy Cadence brought to everyone she met. You know, the kinds of things that could apply to anyone. The vague phrases like "beautiful child", "gift from God", "wonderful wife and mother"…the ones that could be completely false, but are said anyway. It just so happened that, in this case, they were true.

The area was beautifully decorated with blooming flowers and some stand-up photos of immortalized memories. It was beautiful, the whole thing.

Or so Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva said.

After all, Tony hadn't been there.

They went on to further describe what the minister had said.

"And then…the eulogy…well, they asked her father to do it and…it was beautiful."

They didn't tell Tony what the real "and then" was because they thought it was better if he didn't know.

Because they did ask Cadence's father to speak.

And then, Cadence's father stood up shakily. His older sister helped him to the podium, tears steadily rolling. She didn't make a sound, though, as her arm held her brother's with the kind of strength and love that can only be experienced. The kind that words could never describe.

Cadence's father stood straight for a moment, but it was apparent that he wanted nothing more than to fold in half and maybe wisp away into nothing. He stood and thanked everyone for coming, and for a moment, the tears were nearly invisible.

"Jessica," he began. And even those who didn't know him didn't have to ask who he was talking about. His eyes carefully avoided the hanging picture of a woman with long brown hair, wrapping her arms around a man who looked almost like him, but less broken. "Jessica was…indescribable. I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful wife, a more loving mother. She…We…" The man struggled with his words, blinking hard. "From the moment I met her, I knew she was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." And his eyes were snatched away by a look so wistful, the people there wondered if he hadn't just floated away and left behind an empty shell.

No one could imagine how much he wanted to.

"She gave me the most beautiful years of my life, and…" His voice choked ad he swallowed. "I'm going to miss her more than almost anyone in the world."

His eyes crept away from him, toward another picture, to the left of the first.

A little girl was wrapped in his arms, lips puckered against his cheek, yet somehow still managing to smile. She was small and beautiful, with long brown hair to match her mother's, and soulful brown eyes to match those of the man in the picture.

The man in the picture was smiling, too. Large and uninhibited, with an abandon that could only come from loving another person so acutely that their happiness would always and forever be yours.

"And Cadence," he began. Tears pooled with no blinks to restrain them, and his hands trembled as he examined the picture.

His eyes looked back at the crowd for a moment, before falling down to the podium. He looked back up once more, and his voice took on a higher pitch, borne of raw pain and memory. "…she loved to smile."

That was as far as he got.

His sister gently pushed the microphone away, but the sounds of his sobs still echoed in everyone's ears.

"I bet," Tony said, pulling the image from the team's minds. His voice was low and dark, his eyes glinting dangerously. "I bet it was beautiful."

A tense silence filled the room, until Tony spoke again.

"Y'know, I don't think I'm ready to get back in bed yet. I'd rather take a lap in the hallway or something."

"Tony," Abby said, a hint of sympathy in her tone. "You're scheduled for surgery in just over an hour."

"I don't care," Tony said. And the voice was so close to a growl that even Cadence showed a flicker of fear in her eyes.

Abby opened her mouth to respond, but Gibbs cut her off.

"Ok, let's go, DiNozzo." He positioned himself behind Tony's wheelchair and began to push. He turned to the rest of the people in the room. "We'll be back."

And off they went.

**. . .**

"Where you wanna go?" Gibbs asked as they exited the room.

"Don't care," Tony said.

"You don't care?" Gibbs asked. The question was almost a challenge.

"No," Tony replied, anger in his tone. "I don't care."

With a quick maneuver, Gibbs parked the wheelchair into an alcove, where he and Tony had some privacy from the rest of the hospital. Tony watched Cadence move carefully from his side to Gibbs's, but tried his best not to look at her. Not to look at anyone. He stared instead at his lap.

"So what's on your mind, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, coming around the wheelchair to face Tony. The younger man kept his head down, not saying a word. "Are you pissed that you couldn't go? Is that it?"

Still nothing.

"Nervous about surgery?"

Tony remained silent, ignoring it when, out of the corner of his eye, Cadence cocked her head questioningly.

"Is this about Daniel Conrad? Don't want to talk to him? It's gotta happen eventually, maybe you don't want it to?"

Tony said nothing, though annoyance was radiating from his downcast eyes.

But Gibbs wasn't going to make this easy.

His voice became thin, and he knew that his next words would be the deciding factor in the rest of the conversation. He put a little fight in his voice. "Or maybe you just don't _care_."

Tony's head shot up angrily. "Don't you say that to me, Gibbs, because of all the things, not caring is _not_ my problem."

"Oh?" Gibbs said. He readied himself to listen. "And what is?"

Tony screwed his face up, trying to maintain some semblance of control over his spiraling emotions.

"It's like it was all for nothing," Tony hissed bitterly. "All that time trying to keep Marsh from blowing the place to bits…All that talking and strategizing, it was all for nothing. The whole place got blown to hell anyway.

"And afterwards, when-" Tony paused painfully. "When I was with Cadence…" His voice trembled on the name, waves of grief radiating off it. "I tried so hard to keep her safe, to save her…And it was all for fucking _nothing_."

Tony began to admonish himself for cursing, but then he remembered that the girl standing next to Gibbs wasn't real. And it made him want to curse even more.

"Tony, that's not true-"

"Of course it's fucking true! Do you see her here, Boss? Do you? She's _gone_. She's dead and gone because _I_ couldn't keep her safe. She's never going to grow up because _I_-" Tony's voice dropped to a whisper. "I couldn't save her."

"You can't save everyone, Tony."

Tony snorted humorlessly, but Gibbs's eyes were steeled, capturing Tony's, forcefully grabbing his attention. And just like that, the heat in Tony's eyes was replaced by a deep tiredness, soul deep. And with no more heart left to argue, Tony listened.

"You can't take every bullet. You can't jump in front of every car or fall onto every sword. People slip through our fingers and we hate ourselves for it. We think about the what-ifs, the whys, and let that blame, that resentment build up. We think that it was our fault, that we didn't do enough, that we should've been braver."

Gibbs's eyes softened, but lost none of their intensity.

"I _know_ how that is, Tony. I've been there. There are days when I'm _still_ there."

A rare layer of moisture coated the Marine's eyes, encasing pain that he'd never allow to escape.

"But sometimes, the bravest thing we can do...is just let go."

Shifting from Gibbs's side to Tony's, Cadence slipped her gentle hand into his uninjured one, and Tony had half a mind to tighten his grip.

"Yeah," Tony whispered past the lump in his throat. "I'm trying, Boss."


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: My goal is to finish this story before school starts again (ugh), and I have a few chapters left…I'm writing as fast as I can! Your comments and reviews are what really get me going, keep me writing, and make it all worth it, so THANK YOU! You're all really fantastic people, and I couldn't appreciate you more.**

**Shout-out to my reviewers: **_**BlueEyes444, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, Tacpebs, sterno, Madances, mamapranayama, Meilea2010, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, Tango Eight, smush68, julie250, Jackilee, **__**Caro June**__**, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**dbd823**__**, **__**princessesmeralda**__**, **__**TeamDiNozzo**__**, mbj, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**Veryfairygirl14**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, **__**Deans Addiction**__**, **__**FlowerCrazy**__**, ocheezy1, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**Khgirl08**__**, **__**tealrose**__**, **__**Pattik**__**, Nancy, **__**tonyfan2121**__**, **__**Glow60**__**, luzma, **__**blarney**__**, **__**SylverSpyder**__**, **_**and the**_** nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewer**_

* * *

"_Tony?"_

Tony sighed. He was lying in his hospital bed, 'alone' for the first time in hours, ready to be carted off to surgery in minutes. The rest of the team was in the waiting room, though he'd told them they could just go home. He wasn't entirely surprised that they hadn't listened, but a tiny part of him would always wonder _why_.

"Yeah?"

Cadence, who had been sitting quietly in her customary spot on the bed, stood up, walking over to Tony, closer to him. Her brown eyes were full of conflict as she fingered the end of her dress absentmindedly.

"_Do I make you sad?"_

The red stains on her dress stood out starkly against the faded white. Clots of blood stained beneath each of her fingernails, just as they always had when Tony saw her. Her blood, his blood, the blood of any of the people caught in the explosion. It burned red on her pale skin, peeking out from the end of each dirty nail.

"Yes," he answered truthfully. Cadence's eyes became heavy as she looked at him.

"_I don't mean to,"_ she whispered quietly. _"I just want to help. I just thought we could be bestest friends."_

Tony reached out to hold her hand, the hand that wasn't there, but felt so very real.

"I know," he said. "It's not you…I…I wish I…I don't understand why you're here. Or _if_ you're here."

"_What do you mean?"_

"I mean…do you know what happened to you? Are you…What are you?" Tony sighed in frustration, unsure of whether speaking his mind was really the right thing to do.

Though sadness tinged her gaze, Cadence didn't seem fazed.

"I'm exactly what I need to be," she said simply.

"And what is that?"

A bit of the sadness faded from Cadence's features, a mysterious smile tugging at her lips. Her small white teeth peeked out, biting her bottom lip just enough to make her look like any other six-year-old in the world.

"_I'm only six," _she said, shrugging. _"It's _your_ job to figure that out."_

Tony was trying to figure out any kind of response when a small group of medical staff walked through the door.

"Mr. DiNozzo?" one of the staff said. He was dressed in a white coat, holding a chart and a pen. He looked like the leader of the pack, probably the head surgeon.

Tony reluctantly drew his eyes away to look at the man.

"My name is Dr. Pickett, and I'll be the lead surgeon during your surgery. Do you understand the procedure?"

Tony recalled something about straightening bones and pins and a scar, but he didn't want to hear any more about it. So he just nodded.

A touch as light as a feather brushed and settled on his hand. He didn't look over, because he didn't need to see Cadence to know she was there. He didn't need to see her to feel her.

"This is Dr. Stevens, the anesthesiologist," Pickett said, gesturing to a man in blue scrubs. The man stepped forward.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. DiNozzo. Have you ever been anesthetized before?"

"Yeah," Tony replied. "When I was a kid, I got a really bad stomach thing…had to be put out for awhile while they fixed it."

"I assume this was covered in your medical history?" the man responded.

Tony nodded, and watched as the nurses rolled a cart over, grabbing a mask and adjusting some dials.

"Are you ready?" Dr. Stevens asked. One of the nurses began securing the mask around Tony's neck.

Tony sighed heavily. "As I'll ever be."

The mask was put over Tony's face as Dr. Stevens continued.

"Mr. DiNozzo, we're going to count down, and when we reach zero, the anesthesia will take complete effect. Do you understand?"

Tony nodded.

"The surgery shouldn't be more than a few hours, but to you, it'll feel like much, much less," the nurse added kindly. Tony nodded again.

One of the nurses pressed the mask tightly to his face and began counting. But Tony wasn't paying much attention. He looked around the room, having lost the feeling of Cadence holding his hand.

"Five."

He squinted slightly, noticing the blurry edges of his vision. But after a few blinks of concentration, he saw her. She was standing in the doorway, waving and smiling. It wasn't a wave of _goodbye_, but a wave of _I'll see you later_.

Tony wondered if that was true.

"Four."

And suddenly, he was gripped with cold fear, because what if it wasn't true? What if Cadence had just decided to up and leave without warning, and he hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye or hug her or run his fingers through her hair one last time.

"Three."

His vision was almost completely faded now, but he didn't much care.

He couldn't stand the thought of Cadence being gone just like that. Just like Kate. Just like Jenny. Just like Paula and Wendy and his mom and even his dad, because he said they would, but they never really talk anymore.

"Two."

He supposed it was illogical to think such things when he wasn't even sure what to think of Cadence as. She could be anything. She could be everything. And now he was thinking about people who he hadn't seen in forever, or wouldn't see in forever. Or both.

He really shouldn't bother thinking about things he couldn't change.

"One."

But in that moment, all he could think about was how he never told Kate how beautiful she was before she died. He never told Jenny that she was smart or Paula that she was brave or even Wendy that he loved her more than anyone else, because she was one of the first to love him back.

He never told his dad that he was sorry that he lost his wife, and he never told his mom that all he ever wanted was to cuddle up next to her and feel her love wrap itself around him.

He never said any of those things, and all he could think about was that he really wished he had.

But maybe it wasn't all bad, and maybe Cadence really was what she was supposed to be, where she was supposed to be. Because he told Cadence that she had a beautiful smile. He told her that it was ok and that they could be bestest friends for life, and even if all of that didn't work out, it was what she needed to hear. It was what he needed to say.

Maybe it wasn't all bad.

"Zero."

**. . .**

Tony opened his eyes hazily, looking around the room at his friends, who had all apparently settled in when he was sleeping off the anesthesia. His eyes flicked around the room, heart rate increasing when he didn't see Cadence anywhere. Had she really left him?

"_I'm still here," _a tiny voice said, and Tony turned to his left to see Cadence sitting beside him, legs crossed and pulled up to her chest.

Tony released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Morning," a deep, quiet voice said. A bit startled, Tony looked at Gibbs and nodded in acknowledgement.

His boss was seated in the large chair beside Tony, Abby curled up next to him, fast asleep. One of Gibbs's arms was wrapped gently behind her shoulders. McGee and Ziva were each in chairs they'd pulled in from the waiting room, also dozing lightly.

"How does it feel?" Gibbs whispered, gesturing to Tony's arm as gently as possible. Abby stirred, but didn't wake.

"Doesn't really feel like anything at all," Tony replied. He looked down at his arm, noticing the crisp new cast. It wasn't hard and stiff, but rather flexible and soft. He probed it carefully with his other hand.

"Soft cast," Gibbs said. "Easy to take on and off, so they can check your stitches."

"How long do I have to stay here for?" Tony asked, suddenly very tired and anxious to leave.

Gibbs sighed, but inwardly smiled. Because asking to leave after just coming out of surgery? That was Tony, and they hadn't seen their old Tony in awhile.

"If all goes as planned, you should be out in a few days. But you'll have PT a few times a week, along with check-ups. You need to get your strength up if you wanna come back to work."

Tony nodded, knowing that while he felt better, he wasn't even close to one-hundred percent. Still unable to stand on his own for longer than a few seconds, he would definitely need as much help as he could get.

"Mr. DiNozzo?" a voice whispered. He and Gibbs looked to the doorway, seeing a nurse coming quietly into the room, mindful of the sleeping agents. "I'm here to check your stitches."

The woman made her way over the bed, and began taking off the cast on Tony's arm. Within moments, she had unstrapped the cast and was probing the incision with gentle fingers.

It was the first time Tony had really looked at his arm since seeing it in the bank, and while the stitches were black and rather ugly, it was infinitely better than seeing the white of bone shoved through his flesh. But after a second, he closed his eyes, because he really didn't want to see it. Because seeing it meant thinking about it. And thinking about that meant thinking about-

As the nurse examined his arm, a soft tingle came from the incision. Tony's eyes shot open to see what the nurse was doing, but instead saw a familiar hand gently tracing the lines of the stitches in his skin.

"_Does it hurt?"_

Tony shook his head.

The nurse had left, probably to get something for his arm.

Gibbs was still sitting next to him, eyeing him curiously.

"_I'm glad. I don't like it when you're hurt,"_ Cadence replied. Still, her fingers slid across the faults in his newly flawed skin. Her eyes were fixated on it, and she looked like any little kid, fascinated by something simple, awed by something ordinary. That, coupled with the tingling gentleness of her tiny hand on his skin, became overwhelming, and whether it was the meds he was on or the sensitivity of just waking up, Tony found his eyes slightly wet.

"You ok, DiNozzo?"

But somehow the tears forming weren't as sad as Tony thought they'd be. They were more like the tears of a parent watching their child, and just letting themselves feel how good it felt to have them there, to have created them, to have the honor of watching them just _exist_.

"Tony," Gibbs said firmly. His voice was loud enough to wake the dozing agents, who all sat up, rubbing their eyes and looking around.

Tony jumped slightly, sending a twinge of pain through his still-healing abdomen. "Yeah, boss, I'm fine."

"Tony!" Abby said happily, eyes bright. "I'm so glad you're awake."

"Ditto," Tony replied, giving her a small smile.

Cadence drew her hand away and settled back into her spot on the bed.

"How're you feeling?" McGee asked.

"Good." And he was lying a little less than usual, though he didn't know why.

"That's good," McGee said, a relieved smile crossing his face.

Silence followed, and Tony could feel the tension in the room. He could feel Abby's pent-up hyperactivity, Gibbs's worry, McGee's uncertainty, and Ziva's sharp eyes digging into him. To counter all that, however, he could feel Cadence's relaxed smile without even looking at her.

"I think you guys should go back to work," Tony ventured. "You've been back and forth between home and the hospital for days. I'm sure Vance could use you on rotation."

Gibbs bit back the _I don't give a damn what Vance could use_, and remained silent.

"You don't want us here?" Abby asked, a whisper of hurt etched in her tone.

"No, that's not it at all, Abs. It's just…I'm getting better. I don't need as much help anymore, and if I do, the nurses and doctors can help me. I'll be going home in a few days, and you might as well get something done while I'm on leave. No sense in wasting any more time here, when there are people that need you there."

A few moments of silence followed, until Gibbs spoke.

"DiNozzo's got a point. There's lots to do, and not enough people to do it."

"But-" Abby began to protest. Gibbs's subsequent glare silenced her.

"Are you certain, Tony?" Ziva asked. Something flickered in Tony, maybe appreciation, maybe surprise that she even cared at all.

He nodded, smiling lightly as Abby gave him a hug and kissed his cheek.

"I'll be back before too long, mister, so you'd better stay out of trouble," Abby warned. Tony threw another smile her way, didn't matter if it was real or not. She left the room alongside McGee and Ziva, who waved their goodbye.

Gibbs remained seated, and Tony wasn't very surprised. Cadence, still on the bed, began humming a tuneless melody.

After a few seconds, the nurse shuffled back into the room, holding fresh dressings for Tony's arm. No one spoke as she dressed Tony's arm and reapplied the cast.

"There, that should do for now," she said, smiling. "Sorry it took so long, there's been a shortage of supplies lately…Oh, but when I was at the nurses' station, a call came in for you. A Mr. Conrad? He wanted your current status, but of course I couldn't give that to him. However, he was mentioned on the list Agent Gibbs made, so I gave him your room number, and said you were stable. The basics, just as instructed." The last part seemed to be directed at Gibbs.

"A list?" Tony questioned.

Gibbs shrugged. "Can't have the whole world up your ass when you're trying to recover. Wrote down a few names of people that I deem as privy to your basic info."

"And this Conrad guy is privy?"

"Trust me, DiNozzo, he's fine. And if I didn't give him that, he'd have ripped apart the whole hospital trying to find out how you were."

"Why does he care?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Guess you'll have to discuss that with him."

The nurse cleared her throat loudly, and both men looked at her. "So," she said. "Should I patch him through to your room phone line?"

"No," Tony replied. "But thank you." He shot her a smile, and his jaw began to hurt, because faking is much more exhausting than the real thing.

"Ok, well I'll be back later to re-dress your arm. Please use the call button if you need anything."

The nurse exited.

"You know," Gibbs said, carefully examining his agent. "You can't avoid these people forever."

"What people?" Tony said, narrowing his eyes.

"The people who bring back the memories."

Tony narrowed his eyes to block the memories from his mind.

"It stings like hell to think about, but you can't just sit back and ignore the fact that there are other people, too. People who searching for closure." The unspoken _just like you_ left a heaviness in Tony's chest.

"That other survivor?" Tony questioned.

Gibbs nodded.

"That guy Jason's wife?"

Gibbs nodded again.

"One down, then."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, but didn't question further.

Other than Cadence's soft hum in the background, there was no noise in the room. The silence was loud in Tony's ears, and he knew there was one more person.

"Cadence's father," he said quietly, and noted how pathetic his voice sounded.

Gibbs nodded and Tony swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'm not ready yet, Gibbs."

"No one's ever ready, DiNozzo." The wisdom and experience in his words dissipated any argument Tony had in him, because he was _right_ and Tony knew that.

Gibbs stood tiredly. "I'm not going to hold them off for any longer, Tony. They have as much right to closure as you." The words weren't harsh or mean, just true. "Think about it."

Tony nodded and watched as Gibbs strode out the door, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts and a humming little girl.

**. . .**

"Thought you were going back to work," Tony said lazily, hours past when Gibbs had left. There was no real surprise in his words, just tiredness. He was almost disturbed by how little he cared about a lot of things anymore.

"So quick to get rid of me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs replied. More seriously, added, "I did. Had to come back."

"Why is that?"

A conflicted expression flickered across Gibbs's face. "Guess I just realized something."

Tony raised his eyebrows. _Yeah, and?_

"Y'know I'm no good at this, but…I realized I never asked you…if you want to talk about it. To _me_."

Tony's eyes were downcast, and he didn't respond. Gibbs didn't seem to notice.

"I know it's hard, Tony," Gibbs said, staring intently at the senior field agent. Still, Tony didn't look up, and his gaze remained fixed on his lap. "Of all people, I know how hard it is. But you have to try and move forward with your life. You came out of that bank for a reason, and you can't throw it away. Never known you to be a quitter, DiNozzo."

Tony looked up, shocked by what his boss was implying. "Boss, I'd never-"

"You might as well be," Gibbs replied firmly. "There a difference between living your life and just getting by. And I'm not sure you see it anymore."

He thought he could argue the fact that he'd been in a _hospital_ for the past few days of his life, but knew that in the end, that's not what this was about. Tony remained silent and his eyes dropped once more. Gibbs continued.

"You lost something, Tony. Something you loved. But there's still a lot left in the world. There's still a lot left to be found."

A beat of silence followed. Then, Gibbs spoke again softly. "Look around, distract yourself. Bit by bit, it'll help. And later, when you come home from work, don't think. If all you do is think about it, it'll tear you apart. Immerse yourself in something, Tony. Ignore the rest."

Tony looked up from his lap and caged brokenness flooded his eyes. There was bitter strength in his tone.

"We can't all build boats, Gibbs."

And for once, Gibbs really didn't how what to say.

Blinking back moisture, Tony tried to gauge his boss's reaction, and when he saw the man look down, he actually felt a bit relieved. He'd finally said exactly what he meant, and Gibbs knew without having to guess. A fraction of the weight on his chest lifted and he felt _relieved_.

And for some reason, that felt good, because it wasn't guilt. It wasn't anguish. It wasn't _dead_ or _six_ or _your fault._

And maybe that was a start. Maybe that was enough.

"I'm gonna go grab some coffee," Gibbs said. He didn't sound upset. If anything, he seemed almost as relieved as Tony. "Be back in a few minutes."

Tony nodded his acknowledgment, and Gibbs strode smoothly out the door.

**. . .**

A few minutes passed before Tony heard Gibbs return.

"Tony," Gibbs said. His voice sounded heavy. "You've got some visitors."

Tony turned toward the door, where Gibbs was standing with a twenty-something man and small woman close behind. The man looked vaguely familiar, but not in a way that jumped out at Tony. More of a passed-him-in-the-grocery-store kind of way.

"Tony, this is-"

"My name is Daniel Conrad," the man interrupted, stepping forward. He didn't say it rudely, but more...eagerly? Relieved, almost? Was that right?

Then it hit Tony. Daniel Conrad. The other survivor.

"I'll leave you three alone," Gibbs said.

Tony's heart stopped. Three? The _three_ of us?

Panicked eyes shot to Gibbs, expecting the blue orbs to be fixed on the little girl to Tony's left.

But they weren't. Instead, Gibbs held a hand out, gesturing for the woman to enter the room. The woman. The one behind Daniel.

Not Cadence.

Tony took a breath.

He watched as the woman walked into the room, though her stride was more of a waddle than anything, due to the enormous bulge of her belly. The rest of her was petite, everything but that rounded bump.

"This is my fiancée, Marianna," Daniel explained, putting a supportive hand gently on her back. "She's due in about two and a half weeks."

"Nice to meet you both," Tony replied as politely as he could. He was a bit perplexed as to why they were there at all, but they seemed like nice enough people. Uncomfortable silence ensued, Tony feeling very insecure as the man looked at him, eyes full of something Tony didn't care to decipher.

"We're sorry to come so unexpectedly," Daniel began, guiding his fiancée into a chair. "But I wanted to see you. We both did. And we didn't want to put it off for any longer."

Tony nodded his acknowledgement.

"I just…I just want you to know how grateful I am for all you did."

"I really didn't-" Tony tried to interrupt.

"No," Daniel shot back firmly, silencing Tony with a meaningful look. "You did. You saved as many people as you could. You saved _me_."

Tony's brow furrowed. "But weren't you caught in the explosion?"

"Yes, but I saw you. I saw the way you were sneaking people out, getting as many as you could to safety. So whenever no one was looking, I inched closer to the exit, or where I assumed where the exit was, since that was where people had been disappearing. And when the explosion hit, I was close enough that I was able to sprint as close as possible. Didn't make it out, but because of where I was, they dug me out within minutes. Escaped with a couple of bruises and a concussion." He squeezed his fiancée's hand. "A small price to pay, considering the alternative."

Tony didn't say anything. He had no right to tell the guy he was wrong, even if he was and Tony wasn't a hero. He could feel Marianna's eyes on him. He schooled his features and listened as Daniel continued.

"I mean, just a week ago, Marianna and I were trying to think of a name for our baby girl, and then I was sitting there in that bank…just thinking about how I might not even live to see her. We still can't think of one, but somehow that matters a lot less when you're alive and you weren't sure if you would be. I've never felt that way before, like I was really gonna die. It was scary."

"For both of us," Marianna interjected. "I thought I was going to have to be a single mother." Her hand instinctively rested on her stomach, and her eyes became wet. "I didn't want to raise this baby on my own."

"And she won't," Daniel said, squeezing Marianna's hand tightly. "Because of you."

"Look," Tony said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're ok, and that your baby will grow up with two parents…but that's got nothing to do with me. I didn't save you. I didn't really save anyone." _Except myself somehow, and isn't it funny how that worked out?_

Tony looked down because his eyes were full of guilt, and he knew they were both still looking at him.

"Mr. DiNozzo-" Daniel said, disbelieving. He had let go of Marianna's hand, and was ready to argue his point. He meant well, but didn't understand, and Tony didn't have the energy to try and make him.

"Honey," Marianna said sweetly, stopping him in his tracks. She touched his arm gently. "I'm getting a little thirsty….Mind grabbing me something to drink?"

Reluctantly, Daniel tore his eyes away from Tony and faced his fiancée. "Sure, I'll just go to the breakroom-"

"No, I don't want any of that. Just some tea, maybe? I saw a café across the street."

Daniel looked from Marianna to Tony, and back to Marianna. A few moments passed, and finally he sighed.

"Sure, I'll get you some." He stood up and kissed her forehead. Turning to Tony, he said, "Pardon me, I'll be right back."

With that, he left, and Tony was alone with Marianna. He glanced to his left, not surprised to see Cadence there, looking very uninterested in the new visitors. Instead she was sitting cross-legged, humming lightly and fiddling with the end of her dress and if weaving a piece of art.

So not completely alone with Marianna, but close enough.

Marianna cleared her throat and scooted her chair a fraction closer to Tony's bed. She looked conflicted, but finally spoke.

"Pardon me if I'm out of line, but…you…you seem very…I know it's none of my business, but…did you lose someone? In the explosion?"

Swallowing thickly, Tony looked down and back up before nodding. _She's a perceptive one._

"You know," Marianna began, gently taking Tony's hand. He tensed at the contact, but didn't draw away. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to a total stranger than it is to your own family…I don't know your situation, but, after what you've done for my husband—for our family—the least I can do is listen."

And for some reason, that made a lot of sense to Tony. It seemed right, and it'd been awhile since anything had really felt _right_.

Marianna wasn't threatening or over-eager. She wasn't flirting or coming onto him. Best of all, she wasn't looking at him with the dewy, sympathetic, _I pity you_ eyes that every other person seemed to have donned especially for him.

She just wanted to listen. And whether he wanted to or not, maybe he needed to talk. Not to Abby. Not to Gibbs. Not to someone who would listen and look at him and know forever. To someone who would listen and absorb without judgment or advice. To someone who wouldn't look at him for the rest of his life with that glimmer of tragedy in their eyes. Someone who could listen to his story without painting _Sad and Tragic_ on his forehead, in a way that meant they'd never really see _him_ again.

She wanted to listen. He needed to talk. Maybe that was enough.

"Her name was Cadence," he said. His voice was a breathy whisper, rough yet gentle at the same time. "I only knew her for a few hours…She was six."

He always felt the need to say that because she was six and she was gone, and the whole world needed to understand how _wrong_ that was.

"When we were in the bank, I tried to help her, to save her. But I didn't. She died. And now…" He looked over at Cadence, holding the wistful gaze. "…Now I just can't seem to let go."

Marianna didn't say anything, and Tony hardly noticed.

"She was the sweetest little girl I've ever met. Small for her age, brown hair, brown eyes. She talked with the confidence of an adult, but spoke with the voice of an angel. A tiny, brown-eyed angel. She was smart, really smart. And brave…"

_Wide eyes stared into his, scared yet confident._

_"I didn't want to leave you."_

He voice cracked the tiniest bit. "So brave." He cleared his throat and continued, looking back at Marianna. "But her mannerisms…a six-year-old through and through. She does—did—this thing with her dress, where she'd running her fingers all around the frayed ands, just playing with them. There was no point to it, and it wore the ends like crazy, but she did it anyway. I thought it'd drive me crazy." He shot a quick glance at Cadence, her fingers, the way she was fiddling with the very same frayed ends. "But it didn't."

His voice was quiet again, but he didn't care. Marianna didn't seem to either.

"It seems so stupid, that I became so attached. That I got involved to this point…But I can't seem to help it. It's like…" He hesitated. "It's almost like she's still with me." And even though it wasn't a total admission, it felt so damn good to say.

"That's not stupid," Marianna said. She looked into his eyes, and Jesus, it was like she was really _looking_. "That's love."

Tony was about to argue.

_I only knew her for a few hours._

_I don't do love. It wouldn't work out for me. It's probably a good thing I was an only child. _

_Love isn't meant for me, maybe for her, but not for me._

_I don't deserve it._

But every word in his head died on his lips. Because somewhere deep down, Cadence was there, and he knew it was true.

Marianna smiled kindly and squeezed his hand.

"Thank you," he managed to say through the lump in his throat.

She looked at him again with those eyes that really saw, and he couldn't look away. He didn't want to.

"Thank _you_," she said emphatically.

Their eyes were still locked when Daniel strode back into the room, tea in hand.

"Here you go," he said, smiling. It was sweet, how the simple act of getting her tea made Daniel so happy, merely for the fact that it made her happy. Tony was surprised he noticed it, but he did, and he thought maybe it even made _him_ a little happier.

"Well, honey, I think we've taken up quite enough of Mr. DiNozzo's time," Marianna said. "We should head home."

Daniel looked torn.

"I am getting a bit tired," Tony said. He wasn't. "But thank you for coming to see me. It helped." He snuck a meaningful look at Marianna. "It helped a lot."

"Thank _you_, Mr.-"

"Tony."

Daniel smiled. "Tony. Thank you, Tony." He went to shake Tony's hand, but saw the cast. Unexpectedly, he leaned over, giving Tony a gentle yet firm hug. Tony blinked a few times before patting Daniel's back carefully with his good hand.

Marianna shuffled closer and, with Daniel's help, bent down to give Tony a soft kiss on the cheek.

"We'll see you around?" Daniel said. "Maybe visit with the baby?"

Tony smiled because the thought really did make him happy. "Yeah. I'd like that."

The couple beamed and then walked toward to door.

"Oh, and Daniel?" Tony called out.

Daniel turned around.

Another smile tugged at Tony's lips. "Maybe do your banking online for awhile?"

He laughed heartily and it made Tony feel a lot better than he had in awhile.

The couple left, and Tony knew it was just a matter of time before Gibbs strode through the door again. And he wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling at the moment, but he thought it might be something close to ok. Or at least closer than he'd been in what felt like a very long time.

It was this small thing inside, this hope. It wasn't dark or heavy like everything else. He thought of Marianna and Daniel, and their baby. He thought of them having a family, and it gave him that small thing, that small feeling.

It was only a glimmer, a dull glow, a tiny flicker in the darkness. But that was enough. Cadence was still dead and she was still talking to him and he was still achingly _sad_, but now a woman had a chance to give new life to the world alongside someone she loved. Now man had a chance to raise a kid and be the father that Tony wished _he'd_ had growing up.

A new family was being born. Which meant the world would have just a little more love in it.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Not going to meet my deadline, unfortunately…Back to school tomorrow, and still a chapter to go. But I'll write as much as I can to get the final chapter out to you without much of a wait! Thank you all so much for your patience and support!**

**Shout-out to my (tremendously wonderful) reviewers:**

_**xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, Mc7ism, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, Madances, mamapranayama, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, Tango Eight, smush68, julie250, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__**, Jackilee, combatcrazy, sarahsrr, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**dbd823**__**, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**Veryfairygirl14**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**_**, **_**AnnaMorrison**__**, **__**faldo**__**, **__**Hawkslayer**__**, **__**rahut83**__**, **__**FlowerCrazy**__**, ocheezy1, **__**toilmama**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**tealrose**__**, **__** 2kii10**__**, Nancy, luzma, **__**suejacken**__**, **__**Megth**__**, **__**cmrd4667**__**, **__**zats**__**, Kesterpan, **__**MalB**__**, **__**sopmire**__**, **__**DarkRose4u**__**, Luna L, Marianna Morgan, **_**and the**_** 2 nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewers**_

* * *

Tony sighed deeply, pushing back from his desk and stretching in his chair. It had been about a week since he'd been discharged, and after much argument on his part and a very disgruntled Gibbs, he'd been OK'd for light desk duty. That meant half days for him, full of nothing but paperwork. The cast on his right arm was surprisingly easy to work around, but the work was still tedious. He didn't mind as much as he thought he would, though, considering the alternative.

He tensed his muscles, arching his back to relieve the tension that had built up throughout the day. A sharp twinge shot through his abdomen, where a scarred line was fading from his skin. Twinges like that came and went, depending on how he moved, and even though the doctor said it was normal, it still irritated Tony to no end.

A cringe accompanied the shot of pain, and not a second later, a small voice said, _"Are you okay?"_

Tony nodded tersely.

Cadence examined him critically, studying the sharpened angles and slight tremble to his fingertips.

"_Pinky promise?"_ she asked, sticking out her pinky.

Giving an almost imperceptible nod, Tony glanced around to make sure no one was looking. Then, he hooked his pinky with Cadence's briefly.

"DiNozzo."

Tony couldn't help the startled jump, or the subsequent hiss of pain.

"Yeah, boss?" He didn't pretend that Gibbs didn't hear the hiss or see the jump, because the examining blue eyes said everything.

"It's quitting time for you."

And he was right. Sadly, his short day was over. He really didn't want to go home, but didn't have much of a choice.

The feeling was familiar.

Gibbs strode over as he did every day, setting down his coffee and stopping at the desk. His icy eyes were full of a warmth and understanding that could never be vocalized, but never needed to be. He silently lifted Tony's jacket from the back of the chair, and when Tony was finally upright (it took so much longer than it used to, a vivid reminder of how far Tony still had to go), he helped him into it.

Tony slid the coat the rest of the way over his shoulders and sighed. His hand instinctively reached for the keys from his desk, but as had happened every other day, he pulled back upon remembering they weren't there. The agreement for him coming back to work was that Gibbs was named his chauffeur, his only way to and from work. The silver-haired menace had snagged his keys before he even left the hospital, just to make sure.

"And off we go," Tony muttered, making his way toward the elevator. His gait was still a little unsteady, but he was just grateful to be standing at all. "See ya, McGeek," he called out, waving to McGee's hunched form, eyes glued to his computer, face pinched and focused. "Try not to keep your face scrunched up like that. It might stay that way for good."

The younger man looked up and smiled, shaking his head. "Same goes for you, DiNozzo. Keep that ridiculous grin plastered on, and it'll take a shovel to scrape it off."

Tony kept grinning because even if it was a little strained, it felt good to have at least a pinch of normal.

"Bye, Ziva," he said, turning briefly toward the woman.

She gave him a small smile. "Goodbye, Tony. I will see you tomorrow." And though the words weren't warm and fuzzy, they weren't biting either, which Tony counted as a win.

He turned back toward the elevator, where Gibbs was holding the door with a look that said _Let's go, DiNozzo_ loud and clear.

"Coming, boss," Tony said, hurrying as best he could to the elevator.

**. . .**

The two stood in silence as the elevator started.

And then stopped.

Tony wasn't surprised to see that Gibbs had hit the emergency switch and was now facing him, hardly blinking.

"How long are you gonna let this sit, DiNozzo?"

"Let what sit?" Tony tried his best to sound completely confused and innocent.

Cadence did it much better than him.

"_He knows you're lying."_

Tony ignored the urge to roll his eyes at the small girl he felt to his left. _Yeah, I kinda figured. Thanks for that._

"You know damn well what I'm talking about," Gibbs replied. There was no real edge to his words, just authority and _I know-you know-I know_. "There's still one person left to see."

Cadence perked up next to him. _"He's talking about my daddy, isn't he?"_

"Yeah," Tony said, and it didn't really matter which one he was talking to.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows as if saying _And?_

"I'm not ready, Gibbs." He looked down shamefully, knowing what was coming.

Gibbs's face softened a bit as he looked at Tony. "No one-"

"-ever is. Yeah, I know."

Gibbs was still examining him with those icy blue eyes, and after stealing a quick glance to his left, Tony saw that Cadence was doing the same. Except hers was more a mix between a glare and hurt disappointment.

"I'll think about it," Tony said. He still felt Gibbs's eyes on him. He felt Cadence's, too.

Without another word, Gibbs flicked the switch again, and the two continued their journey in silence.

**. . .**

"_Tony."_

Tony sat on his couch, hours and hours later, unwrapping the leftovers he'd begun to eat the night before. Keeping his eyes purposefully on the plate, he dug his fork in.

"_Tony."_

Another bite slid painfully down his throat as guilt bubbled up the same way. It was so late, but he couldn't sleep, he could only think, and he really didn't want to. He'd kept it up for longer than he'd ever expected to be able to, but the weariness inside him was draining the energy it took to disregard the small voice.

"_Tony,"_ and her voice was so high-pitched and sad that he had no choice but to drag his gaze to Cadence's small form standing a few feet away. _"Why are you ignoring me?"_ The words were full of hurt, and Tony wanted to throw up.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know what you want, but I can't."

Cadence's eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. _"You're just a scaredy cat."_

"Maybe," he responded, putting down the food. His eyes were downcast. "Maybe I am."

There was a long pause, and neither of them spoke. But the atmosphere softened as Cadence stood before him.

_"Hey,"_ she said. With the touch of a child, she laid her fingertips gently on Tony's chin and tilted it up so he was looking into her eyes. And once again Tony was struck by the fact that they were the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen.

_"Look at me." _And he did.

"_Do I look scared?" _And she didn't.

"No," he said softly.

_"Good,"_ the little girl replied, beaming. _"Then you shouldn't be either."_

Tony's heart swelled and he blinked back any tears threatening to form. Because Senior had done his best, but Cadence did it so much better. His lips curled the teeniest bit.

"Pinky promise?"

Cadence smiled even bigger, teeth shining. Hooking her pinky, she nodded.

"_Pinky promise."_

Standing carefully, Tony made his way to the bedroom, and picked up the phone. His fingers still shook a bit as he dialed.

"Gibbs," he said into the receiver, and he could practically hear his boss sitting bolt upright, because who the hell calls someone's home at quarter-to-midnight just to chat? He released a breath. "I'm ready."

Cadence touched his arm supportively.

There was a pause of understanding on the other line before Gibbs voice drifted through. "Tomorrow?"

Tony took a breath. _Don't lose your nerve, DiNozzo. You have to do this._

He looked over at Cadence, who was still smiling and nodding encouragingly.

"That's fine. Tomorrow is fine."

As to whether or not that would prove to be true, Tony wasn't sure.

"Tony?" Gibbs said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

And for a second, it felt like Gibbs was going to say something.

The second passed.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Boss," Tony said, and he hung up the phone.

He walked over to his bed and collapsed onto it, allowing his body to limply flop on top of the covers. Cadence giggled, but Tony really didn't feel like laughing.

"I'd better get some sleep," he said quietly. Part of him wondered why he still spoke out loud. But a bigger part of him wondered what the hell he'd do if he didn't.

"_Night, Tony,"_ Cadence said, and next thing he knew, tiny arms were wrapped around him in a brief hug.

"Night," he whispered. And the biggest part of him was the part that always wondered if she'd still be there in the morning.

**. . .**

"I think this was a bad idea," Tony said quietly. His hands were shaking as he wrung them together.

He was seated in one of the chairs in one of the interrogation rooms, where Gibbs had left him a few minutes ago. His boss had suggested the location because it was guaranteed privacy, where he and Cadence's father wouldn't be on public display.

"_Don't be nervous,"_ Cadence soothed. _"Daddy is really nice. He'll like you a lot."_

She was sitting in the chair across from him, hands in her lap. Her legs, unable to reach the floor, were crossed at the ankles, dangling and swaying back and forth.

Part of his mind was telling him that she was right, that he shouldn't be nervous. But the dominating thought in his head was _I didn't save her and he knows that I didn't save her._ The man's only daughter, only child, his precious baby girl…was gone. If Tony had been able to save her, she'd be there for real, feet dangling, ankles crossed, hands in her lap. Her father would be smiling again, hosting family picnics, watching his girl grow into a woman, holding his wife's hand.

But none of those things would happen. Not now.

And a tiny part of Tony couldn't let go of the fact that he should've saved her and didn't. Couldn't let go of the fact that the girl in front of him would be a girl forever.

The family that once was had been destroyed, and left in its wake a broken man, a shadow of what he was when he still had a wife and a daughter and was _happy_. Now he was a Shadow Man, and nothing would be able to change that.

Tony's heart ached for the Forever Girl and the Shadow Man, but he couldn't tell who it ached for worse.

"Tony," Gibbs said from the doorway. Standing up immediately, Tony snapped his focus to where his boss was standing. He could make out the figure of a man behind his boss. "This is John, Cadence's father."

Gibbs stepped to the side, allowing the man to step forward. The man extended a hand, but seeing Tony's cast, dropped it quickly.

"I'm Tony," Tony replied. He was so nervous that his left hand, the castless one, was trembling. A small hand squeezed it gently, quelling the shakes and giving Tony the fraction of strength he needed. "It's good to finally meet you, Mr.-"

"John," the man interrupted. "Please call me John."

"John. It's good to meet you, John."

"Likewise." Something akin to a smile twisted his features, but it was too full of sadness to actually be considered as such.

"You two can have a seat if you want," Gibbs said, nodding to the chairs at the table. "Sorry about the setting, but this way you can have as much time as you need without any interruptions."

"Thank you, Agent Gibbs," John said. "For everything." There was something in the words that made Tony felt slightly out-of-place, as if something had occurred, something he hadn't been a part of, and could never understand.

"Thanks, Gibbs," Tony said quietly. Gibbs nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

Tony sat heavily in one of the chairs, and John followed suit, sitting across from him in the chair that Cadence had vacated.

For the first time, Tony got a good look at the man. He was tall, though not terribly so. Fit. Tony could tell he was a doctor by the way he carried himself…or at least the way he _would_ carry himself, since at the moment he looked more like a broken old doll.

But what stuck out to Tony more than anything, what drew him into the man's gaze without hesitation, were his eyes. They were brown. A deep, soulful brown that made Tony's breath hitch in his throat because _damnit_ it was messing with his head. He wanted to look at them forever because at least these eyes were real.

Tony felt a small pang in his heart, and wished he could blame it on his healing injuries.

"You were with Cadence," John said. _This guy doesn't waste time_, Tony thought, trying to lighten things in his own mind. But the comment fell flat, even on him.

Meanwhile, John's eyes clung to Tony's in a way that Tony couldn't quite understand. The gaze was haunted so deeply that it was almost transfixing, yet almost painful to look at. The man didn't blink. "You were with her…at the end."

Tony tried to crawl through the lump in his throat, but could only nod.

"Y'know," John said, "She wanted to do so much. She wanted to join the school play, the chorus, even the basketball team. At six, can you believe it? I hardly knew what any of that was when I was that age. We—her mother and I—tried to tell her that she couldn't do it all. Between my hours at the hospital and her mother's working day, we just wouldn't be able to get her to all of the places she wanted to be. It would've stretched us too thin; we thought we wouldn't have been able to handle it."

Somehow, Tony didn't have any trouble imagining Cadence, a flurry of ambition and life, ready to take on anything. Ready to take on everything.

Her father continued.

"So when the school year came around, and the elementary offered their youth activities, we didn't sign Cadence up for the school play. We didn't sign her up for the basketball team. All she could do was the children's choir. It was a small group, just one concert for the year. She made the most of it-" _because that's what Cadence did, does, and would always do _"-but she wanted more. She needed more, but we didn't do anything because we couldn't. It would've been too difficult."

Tony didn't interrupt, but sensed Cadence beside him, even before he heard her voice_. "Daddy used to tell me that I was a really, really good singer. The best. 'The voice of an angel', that's what he'd tell me."_ Tony could _feel_ her smiling, and couldn't remember if that made him happy or sad anymore.

"You know what I would do now? If I could go back?"

"What?" Tony managed roughly.

The man's face broke into a smile, one of those smiles that are bitter and twisted, full of all of the pain and none of the happiness, making it more of a grimace, more of a non-smile. An anti-smile.

"I would march into that school and sign her up for every damn thing on the list. I'd take her hand and ask her what she wanted, what _she_ wanted, and we'd find a way to do it no matter what." The anti-smile faded, bringing forth a pool of large droplets in the man's brown eyes. "I'd take her…her hand…and she'd…I'd…I'd let her do it all because she deserved it all. Everything. The world." A few of the droplets escaped. "She deserved it all."

John put his hands to his face, and Tony saw a few streaks of moisture slide between his fingers. A few muted gasps slid out as well.

"_Why is he crying?"_ Cadence said. Tony, head down, glanced to the side. And, honest to God, the little girl really did look confused. The tiny head was tilted, brows doing the same, her face looking pure and questioning and beautiful.

And that was enough to bring a bit of moisture to Tony's eyes, too.

"Because he's sad," he responded simply. His voice was hardly above a whisper.

Cadence said nothing in reply.

After a few moments, John took his hands away and cleared his throat. He didn't apologize, and Tony was infinitely grateful for that fact.

"Was…was she in pain?" he asked, once again capturing Tony's gaze with his own haunted, transfixing, painful one. "The doctors. Well, the…the medical examiner-" Neither man could hold back the cringe. "He said that because of the fallen debris…her lungs collapsed, that air must've been leaking into her chest the whole time. And after awhile, the pressure was too much. She would've lost consciousness shortly before…" The man was struggling to form the words to say that his daughter was dead, had died, and was _gone_.

"She did," Tony said, granting him the smallest of reliefs. "She wasn't in any pain when…when she went."

John nodded briskly, and the motion sent more tears falling heavily out of his eyes.

"Was…" His voice cracked before turning into a whisper. A fearful, pleading, hopeful, please-God-give-me-something whisper. "Was she scared?"

His eyes bore into Tony's, with the same fearful, pleading, hopeful look.

"_I'm scared, Tony," a small voice breathed._

_"Hey," he said. He put his fingers on Cadence's chin and gently tilted it up so she was looking into his eyes. Cadence held Tony's gaze, awaiting his advice._

_"I want you to look at me. Look at me real good. Do I look scared?"_

_"No," she said softly._

_"Good," Tony replied, smiling and running his hand gently through Cadence's hair. "Then you shouldn't be either."_

_"Pinky promise?"_

_She reached out her pinky. She extended her faith, her belief, her __trust,__ and she gave it to him without question. He hooked her pinky with his own._

"No," Tony said hoarsely. "She wasn't." He felt like he couldn't breathe, and knew it was the same thing that was grabbing his heart and squeezing until he knew it was broken. "She was very brave."

_"W-When I…wake up…Will Mommy…be there?"_

_"Yeah, sweetheart…" His voice didn't crack. It shattered completely. "You'll be with your mommy when you wake up."_

_"Tony," the voice was more of a breath than a whisper. Cadence's small hand touched his weakly. "It's ok."_

_He hardly noticed her pinky until she was wrapping his own around it feebly._

_"P-Pinky…promise."_

Tony gave the man a watery smile, and he hoped it didn't look like an anti-smile because, for the first time in awhile, it didn't feel like one.

"In fact," he said. "She might've been the bravest person I know."

And the man smiled back. It was weak, like a baby bird craning its neck for something, anything to hold onto. But it was there, and it wasn't an anti-smile, and that was enough for both of them.

"Sounds like her," John said. He breathed a laugh, and Tony knew the man had his own memories running through his mind at the painful speed of light. "Sounds just like her."

Tony grinned. "Stubborn as hell, too. She get that from you?"

John released a stronger laugh, his head tilting down a bit, eyes closing briefly. "Oh no, that definitely came from her mother. Jessica was the most stubborn woman I've met. When you ruffled her feathers, she reacted like a bear guarding her cubs."

"_Why don't you introduce us?" Marsh asked. Her gun hand twitched, and the mother wailed loudly._

_"Stay away from her! You are not laying a _finger_ on my baby girl. Just leave us alone, you _psycho_!"_

Tony's smile faded, becoming small and knowing on his face. "Sounds just like her."

The two fell into a silence, not awkward or thoughtful. Just full of private feelings and memories that neither would likely ever tell anyone.

"_Tell him he'll be ok."_

The voice startled Tony, though he supposed it shouldn't anymore.

"_Tell him, Tony,"_ Cadence urged.

But Tony looked at the man, seeing red-rimmed eyes and a broken soul, and he honestly and truly couldn't.

"I can't," he breathed.

"What?" John said, looking up curiously.

"I…I, uh…"

"_It's ok, Daddy."_ Tony held his breath as Cadence stood next to her father. She took his hand gently. _"It's gonna be ok."_

John stiffened and blinked a few times.

"_Don't be sad, Daddy. You don't have to be sad anymore."_

Tears filled the man's eyes once again, and he released a stuttered breath. "What…I…I feel…"

"I know," Tony said softly. "It's almost like she's here."

"Yeah," the man breathed. "It is."

"_It's ok, Daddy."_ Cadence slipped her pinky around her father's. _"I pinky promise."_

The father's gaze looked at the ground, then up, then back down, unseeing yet, in a way that even he could never describe, _knowing_.

With a tender smile on her face, Cadence pulled her finger away and whispered in a voice so quiet that Tony almost didn't hear, _"Love you, Daddy. Always and forever."_

John's eyes fell closed, the tense lines in his face smoothing into almost nothing.

Tony sat in stunned silence, half wanting to cry, half wanting to smile. After a moment, he realized he was doing both.

And then, Cadence was gone from her father's side, and the man opened his eyes. He swallowed and looked around, trying to regain his bearings.

After a while, his gaze found Tony again. And maybe it was just him, but the agent swore that the haunted, transfixing, painful look in the man's eyes had faded. Not entirely by any means, but enough that Tony felt the vice around his heart loosen just a bit.

"Thank you," John said. A few more tears dropped out of his eyes. "I'm glad…I'm, glad you were with her. I'm glad she wasn't alone."

Tony's mind flickered.

_Wide eyes stared into his, scared yet confident._

_"I didn't want to leave you."_

"Me, too," Tony said, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "But I think she did more for me than I ever could've done for her."

"She has that effect on people," John replied quietly. Tony didn't correct the _has_ into _had_ because in all honesty, he hardly noticed it.

John stood up, and Tony did the same. Placing the palm of his good hand on the table, he leaned heavily against the fixture.

Noticing the exhaustion creeping through Tony's tired features, John put his hand on Tony's arm, steadying him in more ways than one.

"Take care of yourself, Tony," he said, and with those deep brown eyes, Tony knew it meant so much more.

"You too, John," Tony said. He wished there were more words, better words, but he found nothing.

With a slight squeeze and a nod, John left the room, left Tony, and unknowingly left Cadence as well.

**. . .**

"You wanna talk about it?"

Tony leaned against the wall of the elevator, hands shoved in his pockets. And though Gibbs hadn't hit the emergency switch yet, his fingers were ready to if need be.

"Don't think I need to," Tony replied, shrugging. He paused and looked up at Gibbs. "You think he'll be ok?"

Gibbs hesitated before meeting Tony's gaze. "I think he'll find a way to be."

A nod and silence was the only response.

"You did the right thing, Tony. You helped him."

Tony didn't even dare to hope that that was true. Because he was just a screw-up cop who managed to do a lot more hurting than helping, and why should this be any different?

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said firmly, turning to face his agent. The blue eyes were alight with insistence. "Trust a source who knows from experience." Tony couldn't argue, and wouldn't want to. "You helped. More than you may ever know."

"Thanks, Boss," Tony whispered.

A swift head slap startled him. "What the hell?"

Gibbs gave a small grin. "That was for waiting until quarter-to-midnight to make up your mind."

Breathing a light laugh, Tony replied, "Won't happen again, Boss."

Cadence stood between them with the biggest grin on her face, giggling.

Tony shot her a look that said _What do you think _you're_ laughing at? _And she laughed even harder.

The elevator ride down had never passed so quickly.

**. . .**

"_Are you still awake?"_ Cadence whispered.

Tony opened his eyes, rolling over from the comfortable position he'd just found. "Yeah."

Cadence crawled onto the bed, a serious look making her seem far beyond her six years. The shadow of the room hid the stains from her dress and the dirt from her face, and it was like a healing touch of relief in Tony's heart.

She leaned down, placing the softest, most gentle kiss to Tony's cheek. It felt like the graze of a feather on his skin, and wide hazel eyes stared as Tony held his breath.

"_Thank you, Tony."_ Her deep brown eyes looked just like her father's, and Tony didn't have to ask what she meant.

"You're welcome."

Cadence drew away, and Tony was struck with the overwhelming desire to be six again, just so he could look up with pleading eyes, and ask Cadence to stay with him until he fell asleep.

"_I'll be here when you wake up,"_ Cadence whispered. She sounded so young and pure and _six_, that Tony really felt like he could trust her with anything.

Resisting the urge to ask for a pinky promise, he closed his eyes, thinking that maybe he'd actually fall into a restful sleep, even if only for tonight.


	20. Chapter 20

**AN1: A certain scene in this chapter was completely and totally inspired by the wonderful **_**Deans Addiction**_**, who triggered my muse and helped create a great addition to the chapter. Thanks a million, DA, you rock! And a super special thank you to someone who has done so much for me, possibly without even knowing it. This person has left some of the longest and most creative reviews and PMs in my inbox, and deserves a lot of credit for the impact she's had. A wonderful person and friend, thank you so much to **_**JaneDoe19291915**__**. **_

**AN2: The final chapter…Hard for me to believe that this point has been reached. A bittersweet moment indeed, one that never could've occurred without your encouragement. Honestly, all of you deserve so much more than I can give you. This story was so fueled and inspired you all of you. My readers, my reviewers. **

**I know a lot of people get upset when 'lurkers' don't review, but to me, if you're reading the story, that's all that matters. I don't play a numbers game, and hate when people do because in a sense, it takes away the natural beauty of writing. Writing is meant to inspire. **_**That**_** is the author's payment. Anything beyond that is nothing short of a gift. So if Cadence has made you crack a smile, or flash a frown…if it has entertained you, amused you, given you a few minutes of escape…Then I've been paid more than I can ask for. **

**So thank you all, those I've talked to and those who've been with me from afar. All of your support is appreciated, every single one of you. If you're reading this right now, regardless of what you do at the end of the chapter, know that I'm more than thankful for you and what you've given me. I'm truly blessed; thank you.**

**A final shout-out to my reviewers:**

_**BlueEyes444, xenascully, diana teo, vanishingp2000, scousemuz1k, Tacpebs, shirik, HPSmallCharm29, sterno, Madances, Meilea2010, WinglessBird, Kermitty, **__**Long Live BRUCAS**__**, Tango Eight, smush68, julie250, **__**JaneDoe19291915**__** (aka Steve Tabernackle), Jackilee, Writing For The Wall, combatcrazy, Belker, sarahsrr, **__**mamamia1964**__**, **__**Alisa123**__**, **__**dbd823**__**, **__**princessesmeralda**__**, **__**Lidil**__**, **__**Candy77**__**, **__**tansysam**__**, **__**Callisto-HK**__**, **__**Deans Addiction**__**, **__**FlowerCrazy**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**Nancy, luzma, **__**suejacken**__**, **__**DarkRose4u**__**, Marianna Morgan, elfzena, Tiva lovah, **__**melraemorgan**__**, mstictac**_**, **_**Natalie**_**, ****and the**_** 3 nameless**__** anonymous **__**reviewers**_

**Oh, and to **_**Smush**_**: With the end of this story, I leave you a lifetime supply of un-soggable cereal.**

* * *

"You still awake, DiNozzo?"

Tony's eyes shot open.

It wasn't his fault, not really. After about 25 minutes past the time when Gibbs said he'd be back, Cadence had started humming this slow, sad melody, in a smooth, entrancing tone that lowered Tony's head to his desk and weighted his eyelids against his will.

After 10 minutes, Tony had gotten worried, but Abby calmed his nerves when she explained that the bridge the team normally took to go out to the area of their current case had been temporarily shut for repairs. But she forgot to tell Gibbs before they left, so he was undoubtedly trying to find another route. Tony had hung up the phone and Cadence had begun humming, and a nap didn't sound half bad, so there they were.

"Had to take a detour," Gibbs explained. "Didn't plan on being late."

"Apology accepted, Boss," Tony said with a cheeky grin.

Gibbs ignored the comment. "Ready to go?"

Tony nodded, picking up his jacket and slipping it on himself. If Gibbs was impressed, he didn't let on.

"Y'know, I was thinking…Let's take the stairs today," Tony said.

Gibbs opened his mouth to oppose the idea, but Tony looked so confident and eager and _hopeful_ that he couldn't bring himself to say a word against it. With a shrug of _Sure, I don't care_, and a glance of _You'd better be damn careful_, Gibbs led the way.

The first set was easy. Tony's feet glided from step to step with ease, a little hop accompanying the motion.

After that, things went downhill.

About halfway down the next set, Tony started feeling fatigued, his coordination a little less spot-on than he would've liked. He slowed his pace and hoped that Gibbs, who was right behind him, wouldn't notice.

Two-thirds of the way down the next set, Tony's foot caught on the edge of one of the steps. _"Tony!"_ Cadence called out, her voice a small squeak of surprise.

He quickly tried to compensate with the other, but not fast enough. Gibbs made a grab at him, managing to curb his velocity a bit, but couldn't stop his agent's momentum from sending him right on his butt, sliding like a kid, bumping on each stair.

After about a second, Tony was landed at the bottom, a disappointed look on his face, and Gibbs was at his side, along with Cadence.

"_Are you ok?"_

"You all right, DiNozzo?"

Tony took a moment to breathe, still a little shaken up from his tumble. Granted, it'd only been a handful of steps, but he hadn't been expecting it and his butt was sore already.

"I'm good," he said. "Just a little winded."

"I'd imagine," Gibbs replied with a small smirk.

Tony shot him a glare and began to push himself up. It pulled at his abdomen a little, mostly because he was working with one arm, the other cradled loosely to his side. _Damn cast._

"Whoa, slow down," Gibbs said, grabbing Tony's arm and slowly hoisting him all the way up. "You gotta learn to pace yourself, Tony."

It was dismissed with a shrug. "Guess I'm a slow learner."

An indiscernible grunt was the only response.

The two made their way slowly down the rest of the stairs and to the car.

"You gonna be all right?" Gibbs asked, eyeing Tony's uncomfortable shifting.

"A little sore," Tony replied honestly. "Those stairs are actually meant for feet, if you can believe it."

"Oh, I believe it," Gibbs replied.

The rest of the ride was bathed in silence and thought, and when the car was parked in front of Tony's building, both men seemed surprised. They unbuckled, the simultaneous clicks echoing through the confined space.

After a moment, Tony opened his door and gingerly got out of the car. His left hand rubbed his backside gently, though it didn't really hurt anymore.

Next thing he knew, a supportive hand was on his shoulder, guiding him toward the entrance of his apartment building. It was stronger than the soft, small hand he was accustomed to.

"I'm fine, Boss," he said, shooing off the hand. "I think I can handle the ten-yard walk."

The look Gibbs gave him was wise, knowing, with perhaps a hint of disappointment. Or hurt. Tony couldn't tell which, but he immediately regretted the sharpness of his tone.

"Y'know, DiNozzo, it's ok to accept help once in awhile," Gibbs said, and his words were heavy in truth.

Tony inwardly sighed.

"I know, Boss." And he did. "Slow learner, remember?"

Gibbs said nothing, but Tony tried to put enough smile in his gaze that the disappointment or hurt or whatever it was left Gibbs's icy blue eyes.

After a second of scrutiny, the boss seemed satiated.

The two entered the building, and when they went directly to the elevator, neither said a word.

Gibbs walked Tony to the door, watching as the agent snatched the key from his pocket and unlocked it.

"Pardon the mess," Tony said, but he was too tired to be truly embarrassed.

Old leftovers sat on the table, and he grabbed them, quickly depositing them in the garbage. A few sweatshirts and warm pants lay crumpled on the couch. Tony snatched those as well, tossing them toward his bedroom.

Truth be told, most of his time at home was spent in comfy clothes, on the couch, thinking, eating, and occasionally talking to Cadence. Though Ducky had him on the strictest of diets, so he didn't eat as much as he normally would. And most of the time, he didn't talk to Cadence as much as he did look at her and think about her.

Then there was the in-between, when Cadence wasn't there, but he knew she'd be back, and Tony couldn't decide how he felt about it. About any of it.

But he was always glad when she came back, and that knot inside him swelled with both happiness and sadness, a strange and sometimes painful combination.

"Do you need food?" Gibbs asked, glancing around the apartment.

Tony shook his head. "No, I think I still have that healthy chicken breast thing that Ducky brought over."

"That was 2 days ago, Tony."

"Oh." And he really was surprised. "Well, I think I have other stuff anyway."

Gibbs didn't really listen, marching over to the refrigerator and examining the contents inside. Mildly satisfied, he narrowed his eyes at Tony. "You're off the hook this time, but this thing had better be fully stocked next time I check, even if it means sending me on a grocery run, got it?"

Tony nodded.

"Just don't wait till quarter to midnight. Deal?"

Smiling, Tony replied. "Deal."

He walked Gibbs back to the door, and realized that he was still smiling, but couldn't tell if he wanted to be or not.

"Rest up and eat up, DiNozzo. Don't make me come back and force-feed you; that'd be uncomfortable for both of us." Gibbs was outside the door now, still looking at Tony with shrewd eyes. "You think I'm kidding? Try me. You need to take care of yourself."

Tony rolled his eyes, but knew the words were more caring than threatening, which would normally scare him, but didn't this time. He moved to close the door gently.

"I mean it," Gibbs said, hand stopping the door. His eyes pierced Tony's with knowing intensity. "All of it."

"Got it, Boss," Tony said with a nod. He was halfway between irritated and touched.

That seemed like enough for Gibbs, who turned back toward the elevator and allowed the door to shut.

"_He needs you," _Cadence said, and her head cocked in the same way it had so many times before. "_As much as you need him?"_

The touched feeling of being cared for and cared about was still with him, so Tony answered in the only way he could.

"Doubtful," he replied quietly.

It wasn't bitter or wistful. Just truthful, and that felt good.

"But then again," he said, a small smile quirking his lips. "I'm a slow learner."

**. . .**

Firm knocking awoke Tony from his afternoon doze. He shook his head a bit to clear it from the sleep muddling his mind.

As the sharp bangs continued, Tony rolled his eyes.

"Go away, Gibbs, I'm fine," he called out to the door.

The knocking persisted.

"I don't need a babysitter; you don't need to check on me."

Still, the incessant knocking didn't stop, causing Tony to jump up in frustration. The movement pulled on his abdomen uncomfortably, but he was too annoyed to care.

"Jesus, Boss!" Tony said heatedly, grabbing the doorknob. "I told you, I'm-"

He found himself looking slightly down at the portly woman standing at his door. A pair of wrinkled green eyes greeted him.

"Lesley," Tony breathed. It was the last person he expected to see, but stirred such warmth inside him that he couldn't help but smile. After a few moments, he snapped out of his shocked state enough to form coherent words. "Sorry, come in," he said quickly, opening the door wider and moving to the side.

"You look better," the woman said coyly, stepping inside the apartment. She put a hand on his shoulder, looking him up and down. "Though still not enough meat on your bones for my liking."

Tony gave a light laugh, but his heart wasn't really in it. Somehow, he felt like Lesley could tell.

"Can I get you anything?" Tony said, fumbling a bit. "I don't have much, since I'm on a pretty strict diet, but I'm sure I could scrounge up something if you-"

"I'm fine, thank you, Tony," she said soothingly. "Why don't we just have a seat?"

Tony nodded, and the two sat on the couch, just enough space between them for Cadence to squeeze in the middle.

"_I missed her,"_ Cadence said, smiling. _"I like her a lot."_

"Sorry to show up unexpected like this," Lesley began. "I wanted to give you some time before seeing you, but I couldn't go for too long. I spoke with Gibbs a few days ago, then talked to the doorman. Both were very accommodating."

"Sure, no problem," Tony said, feeling a little jittery. "So, you've been good I hope?"

"Thanks to you," Lesley replied calmly, a small smile still playing on her face.

Tony shrugged off the comment, letting quiet fill the air.

Not surprisingly, the older woman broke the silence.

"I heard, Tony. I know what happened to Cadence."

Tony's bitter laugh was hardly audible. "Yeah," he responded. Then, more quietly, "Thanks to me."

The sarcastic twist made both of them flinch.

"I'm sorry," he recovered apologetically. "I-"

"You blame yourself," she said, examining him curiously. "For letting her go."

Tony's eyes didn't quite meet hers. "I should've told her to hold on. I should've made her hold on."

Lesley sighed, a deep understanding exhalation, full of patience and thought, and maybe a flash of sadness.

"For awhile, I blamed myself, too," she explained. "For letting her stay."

Tony was silent as he listened because he hadn't really thought of that.

"For what felt like the longest time, I told myself that I should've grabbed her arm and dragged her out. That I should've been the adult, and not let a child dictate my actions, because there's a reason children and adults are different, and that's because we're supposed to be the responsible ones. We're supposed to take care of them, no matter what they say or want. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of those beautiful brown eyes, and wished I'd found a way to resist."

She looked back up at Tony, and though a hint of regret still permeated her gaze, it didn't even touch the resolution and strength.

"You blame yourself for letting her go, Tony. I blame myself for letting her stay."

Tony's heart hurt, mostly because he knew she was right.

"But after a little while, you know what I realized? All that blame and guilt added up to nothing but a cycle of regret and sadness and _pain_ that wasn't doing me or anybody any good. Because if you blame yourself for letting her go, then you'd have to blame me for letting her stay. You'd have to blame her for wanting to stay, the woman with the gun for causing it all, and her husband for fooling around in the first place." Lesley softened her gaze, looking at him with those gentle green eyes that somehow knew everything. "And in the end, there's just regret and sadness and pain. That doesn't get us anywhere, honey. Doesn't get us anywhere at all."

And the overwhelming truth in her words made Tony feel sorrowful yet _free_ at the same time.

He felt the brush of a small hand against his, and for the first time, he pulled away. It was a subtle motion, just barely a twitch. But he did it and he _knew_ he did it and he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.

Unable to form a response, Tony nodded at Lesley's words. He didn't have to say thank you, and she didn't expect him to. But she still looked at him, a softness in her gaze that burrowed carefully into his chest, nestling next to his heart, and rubbing a touch of warmth that wasn't there before.

And even though he knew she was a woman he barely knew, a stranger for all intents and purposes, he couldn't help but look at those emerald eyes and see a woman thirty years younger, with tumbling dark hair and the brightest smile he'd ever seen. He couldn't help but feel thirty years younger himself, looking up at the same eyes and hair and smile, and thinking he had the best mama in the world.

He could hear the "Listen to your mama, Anthony" as clearly as he could feel the loving emerald eyes on him, and was shocked that something from so long ago could be brought back with the simple softness of a gaze.

He missed her. He missed a lot of people.

"I should go," Lesley said, rising to her feet. Tony stood up as well. She pulled a slip of paper out of her coat pocket and handed it to him. "This is my contact information. Don't you dare be a stranger, Tony DiNozzo."

Taking the slip with his good hand, Tony smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Without warning, the woman reach up, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace, so motherly that Tony was thrust back into his four-year-old self, leaving for his first day of school, comforted only by his warm new jacket and his mother's embrace.

Naturally, his arms fell into place, holding the pose for a few seconds, willing to stay for infinitely longer.

"Take care, Tony," Lesley said.

He nodded, and with a soft smile, the woman walked out the door, closing it carefully behind her.

A small voice registered in the back of his mind, but for a moment, he just wanted to sit quietly with his thoughts. And in that suspended moment, maybe his mind could find a piece of the catharsis it was grasping for.

**. . .**

"_Tony…"_

Tony pinched his eyes shut at the sound of the small voice. He couldn't acknowledge it. He wouldn't.

"_Tonyyyyyy."_

The drawn-out syllable was full of desperation, so acutely real and present that Tony had to take a deep, steady breath to draw himself back into reality.

_Please, just go away. I'm sorry…Please…_

"_Why do you want me to go away, Tony? You told me we were friends. You said we were bestest friends for life. Why did you change your mind, Tony? Did I do something bad?"_

"No…" Tony found himself breathing. "No, sweetheart, you didn't do anything bad."

"_Then why?" _

Her small voice quivered with gentle emotion, and Tony turned around to face her. She was standing before him, not four feet tall, clad in the same white flowing dress she was always wearing. Tony was surprised to see that the habitual stains of blood were faded from the material, imperceptible. Her bare feet angled in a touch, and her toes scrunched uncomfortably against the carpet.

She was beautiful. God, she was the most precious thing Tony had laid eyes on. Yet he wanted nothing more than to turn away, close his eyes. But he couldn't. His eyes were drawn to her long brown hair, her pleading chestnut eyes. Through a power beyond explanation, he couldn't look away.

She was just a little girl. A small light of innocence that never got the chance to truly shine. The world never gave her the chance. She was ripped away from life for the sake of a stranger's crusade. And the cold reality was that the majority of the population remained unaffected. Unthinking, uncaring….indifferent.

The world had a cruel fixation of carrying on and moving forward. Cadence was merely another victim of circumstance, another sufferer of fate. She was just another loss. No better, no worse, not even different. Death did not discriminate. Fate did not discriminate. Such was life.

"_Why, Tony?"_

Her head was cocked slightly to the side, small brows tilted and furrowed. She was just a little girl, just another victim, just another damn statistic. She didn't understand. In her naivety and confusion and fear and _innocence_, she didn't understand.

She was just a little girl.

A little girl.

And she didn't understand. How could she, when even Tony was having trouble staying anchored to reality?

"_Tony," _Cadence said forcefully. A pause. Then, her tiny voice cracked.

"_Why?"_

Tony walked softly over to her, not breaking eye contact. He watched as the rim of moisture in her eyes overflowed, and tears began to stream silently down her cheeks. The flow pulsed in time with Tony's heavily beating heart, and he swore he could feel the cracks of the organ's surface spread with each painful throb.

He knelt down in front of her, crouching comfortably as a father would when speaking to his daughter. He thumbed away the line of wetness trailing down her face, and was enveloped by how fragile, how childlike, how _real_ she felt. And not for the first time, he wished she could be.

Tony took her small hand in both of his, breaking eye contact and looking down.

_Why..._

He wished he could give her an answer, a reason. He wished he had some philosophical explanation to comfort her, something, _anything_ to justify the reality that the two of them were trapped in.

But reality isn't logical. It's not fair. It just is.

"I don't know." He looked into her eyes as he said it. "I'm sorry…I don't know."

The disappointment in the chestnut orbs cut through Tony's core. He saw it, he _felt_ it burn through every fiber in his body. He looked into Cadence's eyes, and suddenly he was a twelve-year-old boy, bags in hand, waiting for a father that would never show up. He was an eight-year-old son, waiting for his mom to sit beside him at the piano, but knowing she never would again.

Cadence wasn't crying anymore. Tony wished she would.

"But what I do know," Tony continued, tucking a strand of hair behind Cadence's ear. "Is that I can't change what's happened. I want to. For you, for your mom, for everyone." He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "But I can't. And neither can you."

"_That doesn't seem fair,"_ Cadence said quietly, eyes downcast.

Tony's lips curled into a small, sad smile. "It never is."

"_I thought we were gonna be bestest friends for life," _she said mournfully.

Tony fought back tears. "I thought so, too."

He blinked hard, unashamed when a few drops of moisture leaked from beneath his lids. And God help him, he really did. He thought he was going to watch Cadence grow into a young woman, go to her school plays, catch a few of her basketball games. He could see himself in the stands on Senior Night, watching Cadence walk gracefully to the center of the floor. He could see himself in an auditorium, full of parents and grandparents, yet not feeling even slightly out-of-place. He thought all that could, _would_ happen.

He thought he could be that guy, and that she could grow up. That she would live.

But she didn't.

He thought he could get them out. He thought he could save her.

But he didn't.

"I thought so, too," Tony repeated. "But sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to."

A look of understanding settled upon Cadence's face. _"Kinda like you and your pretty friend? The one with the silly name?"_

Part of Tony wanted to laugh, and would have, had his heart not been breaking.

"Yeah, sweetheart, kinda like that. When things don't work out, there are times when you can't go back…There are things that happen that make it impossible to make it the same again, to make it what you want it to be. It's not easy. It hurts." He choked on his words. "…It hurts really bad sometimes."

"_Like a paper cut?"_ Cadence questioned seriously.

Another slice of pain and memory made its way through his heart.

"No," he said, his voice thick. "A little different than that, sweetheart."

"_Worse?"_ Her brown eyes were curious and questioning and he wanted to fall into them and never come back.

"Yeah."

There was a short pause. Tony was torn between savoring the silence and missing the sound of Cadence's voice.

"But you can't change the things that happen. No one can. Even when it seems like you could have what you wanted to begin with, you can't go back. You can only move forward. You can only move on."

He reached up and traced a gentle finger along her cheek. His voice was rough with emotion as he spoke.

"You have to move on, sweetheart. I know it's scary, but you have to move on. You have to move forward."

_For fuck's sake, DiNozzo…You're trying to play ghost whisperer to the illusion of a girl you knew for a matter of hours…_

But he didn't care. Because real or not, Cadence was there, standing right in front of him, with eyes so vivid and clear and _sad_ that they saw right through him, inside him, seeing places he'd never let anyone know existed. Cadence was _there_, and he'd be damned if he was going to ignore her. She was just a little girl, for God's sake. A little girl…

"_You, too."_

Tony peered at Cadence curiously, not comprehending what the small child meant.

She stared at him sympathetically, and suddenly _Tony_ felt like the child, confused and wondering. The look in her eyes was that of a mother explaining something to her son. Kind, loving, understanding. The swift role reversal hit Tony with such force that he once again had to remind himself that none of it was real.

But maybe it was. Tony couldn't figure out which he preferred.

"_You have to move on, Tony,"_ Cadence said. Her voice was serious, sobered by wisdom far beyond her years.

Hopelessness, _brokenness_ crept through his veins, pumping in and out of his heart, making it that much harder to breathe.

"I can't." The bitter sting of loss seeped into his voice, but he didn't care.

"_Of course you can, silly. You just need to try."_ Cadence extracted her hand from his grip, and for a beat, Tony was terrified that she was leaving. But not a moment later, Cadence stepped closer. And with a touch too tender to come from anyone but a child, she rested her arms around Tony in a gentle embrace. She placed her head softly on his shoulder, and Jesus, he could smell the delicate aroma of flowers in her hair.

The gesture was so simple and childlike and beautiful that it made Tony want to forget everything he'd said. He wanted to throw his arms around the girl, pick her up, spin her around. Like she deserved. Like any little girl deserved. He wanted to hug her so tightly that bombs could explode, buildings could collapse, the world could fall apart, and she'd never slip away.

But she was right.

He had to move on, move forward.

He didn't want to, and God, if he could see Cadence every moment of every day for the rest of his life, it wouldn't be enough.

But Cadence was dead. She was crushed by debris, her lungs collapsed, she stopped breathing, her heart stopped beating, and she _died_. No amount of pretending could make this Cadence real, and even as an illusion, she deserved to move on. She couldn't grow up, but she could move on.

They both could.

"Ok," Tony said hoarsely, hugging the young child close and leaking salty tears into her hair. "I'll try."

Cadence pulled away just enough to bring them face to face, untouched skin a breath away from tired, scarred skin, hardened from experience. The deep brown eyes looked intently into Tony's darkened hazel.

"_Pinky promise?"_

She held out her pinky expectantly.

He doesn't know how long he looked at the tiny finger. He swears it must've been a lifetime, but something tells him it wasn't. Doesn't really matter.

Tony hooked his own pinky, crooked and dirty, with the small one in front of him, faultless and smooth. The contrast was just as striking as it had been in the bank.

Then, he nodded, because that was just the proper way to do these things.

Cadence smiled that brilliant, dazzling smile, and in that moment, Tony knew he would never forget how beautiful her smile really was. Thinking of it, his heart beat with a little less pain and a little more love.

He swallowed back the last of his tears, and allowed the grief in his face to fade into acceptance. The brokenness receded, if only a bit.

"Pinky promise."

**. . .**

When he showed up at Gibbs's door not an hour later, he wasn't sure exactly how he got there. But he was there, and he figured there was no sense in turning back.

Trying to clear his head enough to work out what to say, Tony took a deep, unsteady breath.

_Fuck it._ He raised his hand to knock on the door.

It opened before he got the chance.

Gibbs didn't ask any questions, just guided him into the living room gently, like a father helping his son through his first heartbreak, like a friend helping a friend after a reprehensible case. Gibbs got him settled on the couch, and went to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he emerged with two plates, steak on each, utensils in hand.

He had prepared a meal for two.

Somehow, Tony wasn't surprised.

**. . .**

"How're you feeling?" a voice asked from somewhere above Tony.

Groggy eyes blinked, slowly focusing on Gibbs's face above. Tony sat up with a stifled yawn.

"Better," he said. And he really meant it.

"Good," Gibbs replied, tossing a bag of clothes on the bed. "Because you've got some unexpected company downstairs. I can entertain long enough for a quick shower and change, but don't think I can manage past that."

"What're you talking about, Boss? You're a social butterfly. Just gotta test your wings a bit." A shy, cheeky grin accompanied the remark.

"Fifteen minutes, DiNozzo." With a sharp glare, a headslap, and what looked to Tony like a small grin, Gibbs left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Tony sighed, but not as heavily as he had for the past weeks. He picked up the bag and transferred it to his lap. He slid the clothes out, wrapping the bag around his casted arm. The plastic crinkled as he tightened it and tied it off. Then, he rested his arm on his lap again, atop the shirt, pants, and undergarments.

And just for a moment, all was quiet. Tony's eyes scanned the room, not really sure what he was looking for, but at the same time, knowing _exactly_ what he was looking for. The hazel orbs moved slowly from one side to the other, catching all the details, absorbing them. He saw an empty dresser, a small table, a window, a door to the hallway, another door to the room's small bathroom. He saw a lamp, a fan, and the very bed he was sitting on.

He saw nothing else. He was alone. And instead of crashing upon him with the force of the ocean, crushing him, forcing the breath from his constricted lungs, it came softly, like the mist of a gentle wave. It drifted toward him, opening his lungs, letting him breathe, letting him be.

He breathed the gentle mist in, standing up and making his way to the shower. He was alone. But suddenly, it didn't hurt to be.

Fifteen minutes later, Tony took another deep breath, his steps short against the carpet. He began to wonder about this 'unexpected visitor', who it could be, what they might want. But he wasn't scared; in fact, he felt ready. His head was high, mind prepared. A leash of control was placed around his emotions, just enough that it wasn't choking him, simply keeping him in check. He could still feel the soft mist with each inhale.

As he turned the corner into the living room, he steeled himself for whatever was awaiting him.

And just like that, the leash was gone and warmth bubbled in his chest at the sight of a man and woman seated on the couch, a tiny bundle in tow.

Gibbs was seated across from the Conrads, smiling softly. He raised his head as Tony entered the room.

Tony said nothing as he drew closer to Marianna and Daniel and that bundle of blankets and life. Just standing before them, he found himself smiling, too.

Next thing he knew, Daniel and Marianna were on their feet, grinning at him. Their faces were tired, but somehow glowing at the same time. He would've analyzed it further, but couldn't tear his eyes from the fold of the bundle in Marianna's arms.

"We were going to meet you at your apartment," Daniel said. "But when we called Agent Gibbs and he said you were here, we thought this might be just as easy."

Tony thought he said something in response, but couldn't be sure as his eyes remained transfixed on the bundle. His heart both raced and calmed as he stared.

"Tony," Marianna said. Her voice was gentle, as if she was breathing on a flower petal. And it was so full of care, of affection. It was the kind of voice Tony wished his mom had used when he was little, the kind that made him feel special and wanted and loved.

Marianna pushed back the blanket the tiniest bit, to reveal closed eyes with dark lashes, a tiny nose, and sealed lips too small to describe. There was a tint of pink on the cheeks, and peach fuzz hair, almost too fair to see.

Marianna was beaming as she looked back up at Tony.

"Meet Cadence Conrad."

There were no words as Tony's eyes skated over the tiny face, taking in every curve and detail. There were no words as he looked and saw and connected _Cadence_ with the sleeping eyes and lips too small to describe.

"She's beautiful," he breathed. A breeze could carry the voice away, and it was so much like Cadence that it made him smile.

Marianna smiled back with understanding. "Would you like to hold her?"

Tony's heart beat hard against his chest and he blinked in hesitation. "Oh, I don't-"

But in an instant, the tiny—so damn tiny, so _beautifully_ tiny—bundle was placed in his arms, and on instinct he held the baby close.

The changing of hands was just enough to wake little Cadence up. She yawned, her mouth making a little O.

And then she opened her eyes.

They were brown, not light and not dark, just somewhere in between. They were wide, almost unblinking, so full that Tony could swim in them. With a startled breath, Tony realized that the eyes were locked solely on him, looking at him, looking through him, saying so much by saying so little.

"Hi, Cadence Conrad," he said gently. He was still smiling, and wondered if he'd ever stop.

Tony gazed into the eyes gazing at him, and he knew in that moment that Marianna had been right. It doesn't matter how long you've known someone or whether or not you deserve it. Love did not discriminate, just as death did not discriminate. Just as fate did not discriminate. Such was life.

_You're very special, Cadence Conrad_, he said without words, eyes still locked with Cadence's. _You're more special than anyone knows, and one day, you'll grow up._

And that was enough. One day, she would grow up.

That was enough.

_But not too fast_, he emphasized. _Otherwise, you'll make people like me feel old._

The baby—Cadence—let out a tiny bubble of sound, and though it wasn't the conventional type, Tony thought it was the closest thing he'd get to a giggle.

_When you grow up_, and damnit, the thought alone was enough to make his heart leap, _you're going to do anything you want. The world is yours for the taking, beautiful girl, and it's just waiting._

Tiny fingers brushed against his, and it wasn't the Cadence he knew, but it was Cadence all the same. And it made him want to cry, but not in the way it used to.

The baby's eyes were starting to droop again, but he needed to get one more thought across before she drifted back into sleep. Before he let the fingers go, he locked hazel eyes with brown, neither set blinking.

_You are loved, Cadence Conrad._ The eyes began to close. _You always will be._

He handed the bundle gently back to Marianna, glancing around at the faces in the room. And he knew without a doubt, it was a promise that would never be broken.

**. . .**

After the Conrads left, with vehement assurances to return and keep in touch, Gibbs and Tony decided that it was a nice night for a family dinner. Gibbs made the arrangements and the grocery run, and Tony did the cooking, granted with a little help—cooking one-handed isn't easy.

Everyone was there. McGee, Ziva, Abby, Ducky. Even Palmer had hopped on board, for which Tony was even more grateful. He hadn't seen his Autopsy Gremlin in awhile, and though he might never admit it, he missed the guy. He missed all of them.

And as Abby wasn't shy at all about admitting, they'd all missed him as well.

"I must say, this dinner is quite excellent, Anthony," Ducky admired, taking another bite.

Palmer nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Tony, what is this anyway?"

Tony grinned shyly. "Just some ricotta and spinach Tortelloni."

"I am not familiar with many Italian dishes, but I must agree," Ziva said. "And I will be even more impressed if you have managed to restrain yourself from poisoning McGee's plate with some kind of laxative."

McGee's head shot up in fear, eyes wide, making Tony laugh heartily.

"Don't worry, McGullible, no milk of magnesia for you. Not tonight, anyway," he said, and McGee sagged in relief.

"You should've seen your face, Timmy," Abby giggled.

Everyone was smiling as they continued to eat, and Tony's eyes drifted from person to person. Each was relaxed, happy. Even Gibbs was cracking a grin, taking a small sip of wine. They were all under one roof, together, and Tony felt like he was part of it, maybe even part of something bigger than he could wrap his mind around.

But the point was that they were _there_. In front of him, where he could see them, hear them, feel them. They were there and he was there and the feeling filled Tony's chest, even the tiny Cadence-shaped hole. He could still feel it, but now he knew how to fill it…with his family, with what he had, with what was _there_.

Gibbs eyed Tony carefully, noticing the distance in his gaze.

"You with us, DiNozzo?"

And for the first time in longer than he could remember, Tony felt like that was _exactly_ where he was, and exactly where he was meant to be.

**. . .**

"_**Each human life is like a new symphony heard for the first time.**_

_**It can't be understood or fully appreciated until after the final cadence."**_

_**~Author Unknown**_

Tony still sees Cadence. Not in the way he used to, but he sees her.

Tony sees Cadence in every child's face. Every dimpled cheek and toothy smile. Every set of bright eyes and each button nose. He sees her in Daniel and Marianna's baby…he sees her in that baby's future, and the future of every child he has the blessing of coming into contact with. Because now he sees every child as just that. A blessing. A gift. Something given to everyone as a reminder of what can still be _beautiful_ in the world. Given to everyone. Whether a parent of five or a mentor to one's next-door neighbor. Whether a childless father with a broken heart or someone beginning to consider parenthood.

Even just a screw-up cop with nothing to show for himself but an apartment full of movies and a bullpen full of friends. Even he can have that gift. Even he can lose it. But to see is to never forget, and to never forget is to make immortal. Tony still sees Cadence.

He hears her, too. Sometimes it's the same small voice, stubborn yet sweet, strong yet gentle. But most of the time, it's just the idea of her, and that's enough. He hears her in every light, airy laugh. The soft sound floats around his ears and seeps into his brain, drawing a picture of a carefree countenance and smiling eyes. He feels it dive into his chest and beat its cadence painfully against his heart.

And every day, without fail, Tony can feel Cadence. Her presence resides in more ways than one, around Tony, within him.

He feels her every time he twists the wrong way and gets a little twinge from his abdomen. Each time he traces his finger across the faint scar on his arm, he feels the ethereal hand of a little girl doing the same.

He feels her in every warm embrace. And there's really nothing else to say about that.

Though Tony is never sure just when or where it'll hit him, Tony thinks of Cadence with sweeping frequency. Whether in the grocery store or at work or when helping his elderly neighbor or times where he's just sitting in his apartment, allowing the emptiness to consume him. Doesn't matter where, doesn't matter when; it hits him without reason or pattern, continually and immeasurably.

He thinks that maybe it'll never stop hitting him.

He thinks that maybe he doesn't want it to.

Tony thinks of Cadence every time he prays, and hopes she can somehow hear him. Though he's not sure who he's praying to, he has a feeling he doesn't do it enough. He's going to try to do better. Pray more, help old ladies carry their groceries, maybe give a chunk of his paycheck to some charity for some cause he doesn't know but thinks is noble. He's going to smile and laugh more. He's going to immerse himself in the memories without drowning in them.

Tony is going to move on, move forward. Because he promised Cadence he would.

And not all the agony and heartbreak in the world could make him break his word. Not again.

"_Pinky promise?" _Memory breathes its life into words that Tony can almost hear.

Tony allows his lips to curl into a small smile.

And he nods.

"Pinky promise."


End file.
